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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312062">For a Fistful of Dollars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/GerdavR/pseuds/GerdavR'>GerdavR</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Western, Background Reylo, Blood and Violence, Character Death, F/M, Gingerrose - Freeform, Idiots in Love, M/M, More Talking than Shooting, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, Period-Typical Sexism</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:47:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>46,286</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28312062</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/GerdavR/pseuds/GerdavR</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The town of Silver Gulch is firmly in the clutches of Mr Snoke, the richest rancher in the land. When he hires a new, mysterious ranch manager, events come to a head: When a body is found in a creek, it falls to Rose Tico, the blacksmith, to uncover the truth about the crime.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>100</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>61</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Gingerose Holiday Exchange 2020: Secret Spy</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Good, The Bad and the Ugly</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_desk_fairy/gifts">the_desk_fairy</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Many thanks to Crownedsparrow, Tishinada and ElfMaidenOfLight for their great ideas and all their help - this is my first AU and I hope you like it. </p><p>If you guys want, you can listen to the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4niv522mbtM&amp;list=PLf7hMIik3HgvYj6hhLxkzES3gPqwBzTOk&amp;index=1/">playlist</a> I created to get into the Wild West mood. ^^ Some of the chapter titles are inspired by the music, but this is not a songfic and it is not necessary to listen to the music.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Fiery sparks flew up in the air, dancing like fireflies on a hot summer evening. Some returned into the red-hot fireplace, merging with the brightly glowing charcoal; others strayed from the fiery pit, landing on the cold floor, breathing out their short existence.</p><p>The hammer stilled, and so did the sparks. Rose put the horseshoe down, stepping outside the smithy. She wiped over her sweaty forehead and shuddered as a gust of cold winter air hit her face. Her dark brown blacksmith apron was just thick enough to stop the wind from going through and through.</p><p>The main street that stretched out before her was covered in a thin layer of snow. She was just in time to see a coach approaching from the east side of town, its wheels dragging a fairway of dark-brown mud through the pristine white blanket.</p><p>Heavier snowflakes started their descent from the grey November sky. She looked up, squinting. There would be even more snowfall in the night. She should make sure there was enough firewood in her tiny shack.</p><p>She took one last breath of fresh air before she returned to the smithy. She grabbed the horseshoe with tongs and held it into the fire. As she watched the iron heat up, she heard raucous laughter and screams outside. Probably those idiotic Jones brothers again, bullying poor old Ned.</p><p>A fresh film of sweat started to form on her forehead. She turned the horseshoe. Knowing Sheriff Pryde, he was standing on the porch of his office, wrapped into his dark grey coat, smoking those thick cigars that smelled worse than burnt horse hair, watching everything unfold with his ice cold stare.</p><p>She put her heavy leather gloves on and grabbed the hammer from her tool rack hanging on the wall, starting to pound on the glowing horseshoe. Fucking asshole. She hammered harder. One of these days she would tell him what she really thought of him. The hammer moved even faster, settling into a steady rhythm.</p><p>One of these days… well, after she had enough whiskey to loosen her tongue of course. Perhaps it was a good thing that she was too broke to actually buy enough to make her do something so reckless and stupid.</p><p>The iron was bending under her blows.</p><p>Come to think of it, she really should take care of her tab at the saloon. Or switch to cheaper booze. She grimaced a little when she thought of the taste of old Ned’s moonshine. Or perhaps not—surely she could scrape together a few cents when the next stagecoach from Montana City drove into town.</p><p>She hammered the horseshoe a final time and put it on the anvil, waiting for it to cool off a bit before putting it into the bucket of water next to the fire.</p><p>Rose poured herself a cup of cold tea and drank it to get the taste of iron, smoke, and ash out of her throat. Then she took the next horseshoe and continued her work.</p><p>***</p><p>Two hours later, she was exhausted. Her arms hurt and her eyes burned from staring into the blaze. She covered the fire with a thick cast and pulled her gloves and her leather apron off. Then she climbed up the wooden ladder into the small compartment above the smithy.</p><p>The room was stuffy and hot from the heat of the fire. Rose had insulated the walls with layers of old clothes and straw. She sighed and laid down on the thin mattress, resting for a couple of minutes before lighting up a candle. Then she pulled a bag out of a tiny cupboard.</p><p>She took a meagre piece of bread and cured beef out of the bag and quickly stored it away again. Soon she would have to stock up on food. She bit into the dry bread and the chewy jerky. Hm, whiskey or food—tough choice.</p><p>In a matter of moments, she had devoured the meat. She laid down and stared up at the ceiling. Three cherished items were nailed onto the wooden beams. The first was a photograph of a family posing in front of a railroad. Her father was wearing a dark suit, while her mother was wearing a bright dress, holding a baby in her arms. Next to her stood a toddler.</p><p>Rose stared at the toddler. “How are you today, sis?” She sounded raspy. Rose cleared her throat. “Do you think I should go for a glass of whiskey?”</p><p>The toddler stared silently back at her.</p><p>“I know, it’s not the best idea. But it’s been a week and it’s so damn boring being sober.”</p><p>Rose sighed and let her gaze wander over a yellowed letter with chữ Nôm characters. The ink was pale, and even if she could read the characters, they would be hard to decipher. Finally, she set her gaze on a cloudy photograph of herself as a teenager. Next to her stood an old white man with a wild, grey walrus moustache.</p><p>She got up again and grabbed her old tatty coat. Then she climbed down the ladder and left the smithy.</p><p>She marched over the main street towards the saloon. Snowflakes were falling quietly from the dark night sky. The only sounds were her boots crunching in the snow and the faint chorus of music and laughter coming from the revellers inside the saloon.</p><p>The saloon itself looked bright and welcoming, the warm light illuminating its tiny windows almost like a beacon. Behind her, Rose heard neighing. When she looked over her shoulder, she saw three white men on horses making their way through the main street towards the saloon.</p><p>The tallest of them sported a black goatee, his dark poncho covering most of his upper body. He had his black hat pulled down, obscuring his face, but she knew from his clothes that it was Ben Solo. That meant the other two she didn’t recognize were likely also employees of Mr. Snoke from the Sweetwater ranch.</p><p>She slowed her step to get a better look at them. Both were wearing black too. One of them was glaring at her, a smug grin on his lips. He had thick bushy brows and some stubble and wore a dustcoat with a thick red scarf. Despite his hat, she could see that he was bald. The third was sitting oddly straight in the saddle, holding the reins in just one hand. He wore a long black coat, a waistcoat, and a cravat with a golden needle in it.</p><p>Rose frowned. The third one was no ranch hand, that much was sure. She continued her way a bit faster, not wanting them to catch on that she was ogling them. Soon, they had ridden past her and Rose got another glance at the third rider. He wore a dark hat like Solo, but his looked new and pristine, unlike his companion’s. Under the hat she could see a shock of red hair. Crisp sideburns on his sharp cheeks enforced the impression that this was no simple cowboy. Perhaps he was a cattleman then?</p><p>They arrived at the saloon and secured their horses at the posts outside before heading in. The bald one eyed her again before he disappeared into the building.</p><p>Rose slowed her step a little. She didn’t like the look of the bald man. Should she just go home again? No, damn it! When the Jones brothers with all their mocking and jeering couldn’t drive her off, Baldy here wouldn’t succeed either!</p><p>She put her hand on the doorknob and licked her lips before turning it and stepping inside.</p><p>Warmth, the smell of whiskey, sweat, and leather welcomed her. She quickly entered, closed the door quietly behind her, and made an effort to move quickly and inconspicuously to the counter.</p><p>Most tables were filled with bearded poker players, slapping cards on the table with toothless grins. Rose recognised most of them; gold miners from a nearby settlement, gambling off the few nuggets they had found.</p><p>Rey Jakobson was playing the piano, and some of the customers were happily singing along. It was of course a love song about a lonesome rancher and some damsel. Rey smiled and sang along too, her lovely voice cutting through the male voices like a bright bell. Rose smiled a little when she saw her. Rey always looked so carefree. It was nice to see a happy face every now and then.</p><p>She was also one of the few persons in the town who actually talked to Rose.</p><p>Rose reached the counter and watched the three men that had arrived before her get served by Kit the bartender. Solo gulped down his glass and banged it on the spotty counter. He turned lazily around and looked at Rey. He chewed on his lip before turning around and gesturing Kit to pour a new one.</p><p>Baldy laughed at something Kit had said before taking his drink. The ginger man smelled at the glass before taking a sip, looking bored.</p><p>Rose waited quietly until Kit noticed her in her corner. He came over, giving her a tiny smile. “Ready to pay your tab?”</p><p>“Uh, about that…”</p><p>Kit chuckled. “You’re lucky that the boss likes you, Tico. Not everybody can rack up so much debt and still get a drink.”</p><p>She shifted her weight. “You know I’m good for it. Winter is always a hard time. But I’ll pay you in the spring.”</p><p>He put a clean glass on the counter and poured her one of the cheaper whiskeys. “I know, it’s just that—”</p><p>“Didn’t think that you were a girl,” said Baldy with a broad grin. He left his friends and stepped closer to Rose, towering over her. “You are a girl, right? One can never be sure with you Chinks. You all look alike.”</p><p>Rose lifted her chin. She barely reached his chest. “I’m not surprised that you can’t tell. Judging from your bad breath you never got close enough to a woman to tell the difference.”</p><p>His face darkened in anger. “What? What did you say to me, you piece of shit?”</p><p>She stared him in the eye, her heart starting to race, her hands becoming sweaty. Shit—once again her mouth had been faster than her brain. She turned away and took her whiskey. “I had a long day and I’m not in the mood to talk. Just leave me be.”</p><p>He grabbed her by the lapels, causing her to lose her grip on the whiskey glass, making some of it spill on the counter. “I won’t let you off so easily. Apologize or I’ll bash your damn head in!”</p><p>“Now, now,” said a cool voice from behind. “No fights in the saloon. You know the rules, don’t you?”</p><p>Sheriff Pryde was closing the door of the saloon behind him. He casually brushed the snow off his coat and stepped closer. Baldy was about to snap back when he noticed the Sheriff’s star on Pryde's chest.</p><p>He pushed Rose away so that she fell backwards onto the wooden floor. The gamblers laughed at her. She gritted her teeth and got back up. Jerks! She grabbed the glass of whiskey and gulped the rest of it down. It burned in her throat. It’s what she had been looking for, but did little to make her gut-wrenching anger go away.</p><p>Pryde smirked at her. “You know better than to come here, Tico.”</p><p>She glared at him. He was baiting her, waiting for her to tell him that he was supposed to keep order in the town, protect the citizens. Then he would give her a toothy smile, telling her that she was, in fact, <em>not</em> a citizen of this town. Just some dirty ‘Chink’ outsider or something along these lines. She had played the game long enough to know all about it.</p><p>She turned away and stared at her empty glass. Kit gave her a shy smile and filled it back up. Only now she noticed that the piano had fallen silent. Rey came over and stepped in front of the bald man. “You—out!”</p><p>The man stared at her disbelievingly. “Who the fuck are you? I don’t listen to women. Even if they are as pretty as you.”</p><p>A murmur went through the room. “This is my saloon, you moron,” snapped Rey. “And I want you out.”</p><p>Baldy’s eyes went wide. “What?”</p><p>Pryde chuckled darkly. “You heard the lady.”</p><p>He looked from Pryde, to Rey, and finally set his sights on Rose. He grimaced, grabbed his hat from the counter and marched out, banging the door behind him. Pryde sighed and followed him.</p><p>Rose shifted her weight uncomfortably. “You didn’t have to do that.”</p><p>Rey turned and gave her a brilliant smile. “Of course I had to. You’re my friend, Rose. Nobody is supposed to treat you like that.”</p><p>Rey didn’t know that Rose would have to  eventually pay the price for her kind act. No good deed goes unpunished in the town of Silver Gulch. But she simply didn’t have it in her to tell Rey. Rose gave her a sad smile. “Thank you, Rey.”</p><p>“It’s a good thing that you’re here,” she went behind the counter and handed Rose a paper wrapped little parcel. “I finished it yesterday. I think you’ll love it!”</p><p>Rose gaped at the package. “Is it a novel?”</p><p>“Of course it is! One of the travellers left it and it’s really good.”</p><p>“Thank you!” Rose said with a genuine smile.</p><p>Rey patted her hand and sighed. “I need to go back to the piano.” Rey put her most brilliant smile on and returned to the instrument. Moments later, music was playing again. Rose relaxed a little and shoved the parcel into her left pocket.</p><p>From the corner of her eye she saw that Ben Solo was staring at Rey. He was an odd fellow, always silently lurking at the bar, watching Rey. As far as Rose knew, he hadn't even spoken to her, not once.</p><p>She noticed that the ginger was looking at her. Rose quickly averted her gaze, staring at the whiskey in front of her as if it were the single most interesting thing in the room. She had enough trouble for one evening. Slowly she reached into her right pocket, searching for a potential weapon. There was only a hoof pick inside. Damn it—why hadn’t she remembered to pocket a knife before heading over here?</p><p>Well, perhaps if she stayed a while, Baldy would have gone home before she came out. She went to a table in the back and sat down in one of the chairs. She took a sip of whiskey, pulled the novel out of her pocket, and made herself comfortable.</p><p>***</p><p>About an hour later, Rose could barely suppress a yawn. The warmth, the whiskey in her belly, and an honest day’s work did their part in making her very, very tired. The book had started interestingly enough—it was a story about a young noblewoman trying to woo a prince. At least that’s what she gathered after the first 30 pages.</p><p>She put the book back in her pocket and got up, slipping into her heavy coat. The saloon was half-empty now. Rey was chatting with some customers, Kit was wiping the counter, and Ben Solo and his companion were still at the bar, quietly talking to each other.</p><p>Rose decided that it was safe enough to leave as long as they were distracted. Perhaps they wanted to give her a piece of their mind about having their friend kicked out? She quietly went to the door and exited the saloon.</p><p>It was colder outside, and she pulled the collar further up before she stepped from the porch out into the snowy main road. The horses on her left huffed and blew. She took a few steps when she heard wood creaking behind her, causing her to stop in her tracks.</p><p>“You know, letting me wait for so long in this damn cold didn’t improve my mood,” said Baldy, stepping out of the shadows. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”</p><p>She made a desperate attempt to bolt, but he was faster, grabbing her from behind. She reached for the horse pick and shoved it into his face. He yelped in pain and let go of her. Rose took the horse pick into her right hand and widened her stance. She wasn’t fast enough to get away—she had to fight!</p><p>He wiped the blood from his injured cheek and reached for his knife. “That was your last mistake, bitch!”</p><p>“Touch me again and I’ll take out your eye, asshole!” she hissed. She stood no chance against a knife with her pick, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight.</p><p>The door to the saloon opened and to her dismay, the ginger and Ben Solo stepped out. The ginger crooked an eyebrow and drew closer.</p><p>“What’s this?”</p><p>Baldy pulled his nose up and spit out, “I’m going to teach this piece of shit a lesson.”</p><p>Damn! Even against one she barely had a chance, now there were three of them! She gripped her horse pick harder. She wouldn’t go down easily!</p><p>The ginger shook his head. “That’s no way to treat a lady, Mr. Ellis.” His accent sounded like Rey’s, but there was a difference she couldn’t place.</p><p>“It’s her fault that I—”</p><p>Solo put a cigarette between his lips and lit it up. “Shut up. Tico is the blacksmith. Snoke needs her.” He took a drag and blew the smoke out of his nostrils.</p><p>Ellis frowned. “That can’t be true! She’s a woman for fucks sake! Women can’t be blacksmiths.”</p><p>The ginger sighed. “Empirical evidence says something different. Put that knife away. Now.”</p><p>Rose stared incredulously at Solo and the ginger. This wasn’t what she had expected. She quickly caught herself. “You heard him.”</p><p>Ellis pulled the corners of his mouth down. “Fuck you, you—”</p><p>“Step away from the lady,” the man repeated.</p><p>“Fuck you, city boy!”</p><p>Something reflected in the pale light, the ginger had pulled a knife. “Go back to the ranch. Now!”</p><p>Ellis shot the ginger a nasty glare. He put his knife away, and mounted his horse. Rose watched him ride away before she exhaled. The redhead also sheathed his knife and eyed her from head to toe.</p><p>She realised that she was still wielding her ridiculous horse pick. She awkwardly put it back in her pocket and cleared her throat. “Thanks.”</p><p>The man tipped his hat.</p><p>Solo took another drag. “You’re Mrs. Jakobson’s friend, aren’t you?”</p><p>Huh, not a question she had expected. Better to be cautious. “Why are you asking?”</p><p>Solo just stared at her. She didn’t like it.</p><p>“Well, it’s late and cold,” she said, pulling her nose up. “Appreciate the help though,” she mumbled quietly before she turned and marched down the street, leaving the two men in her wake.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Sweetwater</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hux started to roll a cigarette of his own. “What was that about?”</p><p>Solo shrugged. “Just being curious.” He threw the cigarette stub in the muddy snow and grabbed the reins of his horse.</p><p>It was odd that Solo didn’t just admit that he was interested in the woman. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that <em>Mrs.</em> Jakobson was married.</p><p>Hux lit up a match and held it against his cigarette. When he threw the match away, he noticed something laying in the snow. He crouched down and picked it up. It was a book, loosely wrapped in dark brown paper.</p><p>He raised his head, but Miss Tico was nowhere to be seen. She must have lost the book when Ellis had assaulted her. He had noticed that she was reading back in the saloon. How novel—a blacksmith reading a book.</p><p>“Are you coming, Hux?”</p><p>“Of course,” he replied.</p><p>***</p><p>The next day, he visited Ellis in the cowboy's barracks and reminded him once again that he should leave the town’s only blacksmith well alone. Of course, a brute like Ellis couldn’t be trusted at all. But one could hope that even a simple-minded troglodyte like him would understand that Mr. Snoke needed a capable blacksmith. Solo had assured him that she had been taught properly by the old blacksmith and was indeed very skilled.</p><p>As he rode into town to verify Solo’s claim, he decided to take a detour to check up on the herd out on the plains. As the new ranch manager, he needed to make sure that the local cowboys knew he was keeping a close eye on them.</p><p>As he rode past the dirty men gathering around a fire, he couldn’t help but feel disgusted at himself. Working for Snoke was without doubt a new low point for him. Well, he didn’t intend to stay a ranch hand forever, that much was sure. If his plan worked out, he would be gone by summer.</p><p>He smacked his lips and York started to trot faster as they made their way into town.</p><p>Once arrived at Silver Gulch, he had to ask an old woman hauling firewood on her bent back where the smithy was. She spit upon the ground and pointed wordlessly at a house at the far end of main street. Lovely people, thought Hux as he gave her a polite nod.</p><p>He clicked his tongue and York trotted towards the house. The snow on the road had turned deep brown, and an icy wind was blowing through the row of wooden houses. He got off the saddle and knocked at the half-open door. The heat of the place burned on his face even through the small opening.</p><p>Moments later Miss Tico appeared on the threshold. She was wiping her sooty hands on an old rag and frowned. “Ah, it’s you. Mister… ?”</p><p>“The name is Hux.”</p><p>“What can I do for you?” she asked with a friendly nod. He hadn’t expected her to be so civil.</p><p>Hux cleared his throat. “My horse needs new horseshoes, and then there is this,” he reached into his coat and produced the small parcel.</p><p>Miss Tico blushed, at least he thought so. It was hard to say in the orange light of the fire. She took the book and unwrapped the paper a little to inspect the water damage on the edges. “Thank you.”</p><p>She smoothed the paper wrapping and placed the book with great care on a table with a jug and a mug. To think that there was a woman in this godforsaken town who valued the written word enough to handle an old book with such care. Interesting.</p><p>“Alright, let’s have a look.” She stepped outside and stroked York, his black stallion. “You are a beautiful boy. Yes, you are,” she said in a low voice. She patted the horse again and put her hand on his foreleg. York lifted his leg immediately, letting her inspect the hoof.</p><p>She let go of it. “The nails are all still there, there is no need to replace the horseshoe. It isn’t even worn down.”</p><p>“York is very dear to me, Miss Tico. You can change them anyway.”</p><p>“Fine, that would be three cents per hoof. Cleaning included of course.”</p><p>Hm, cheaper than he was used to. “Very well.”</p><p>She led York to a small stable right next to the smithy. There was only a meagre amount of straw in the feeding trough. An old donkey was standing there, chewing slowly on some hay. Tico peeked into a barrel with horseshoes and checked their size.</p><p>Hux leaned against the doorway and tugged at his lined black leather gloves. “You obviously know your way around horses. I have seen blacksmiths that were barely able to keep York calm and with you he’s… tame.”</p><p>“Yeah, animals are easier to tame than people.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Quite.”</p><p>She made York lift his hoof again. She started to peel off the old horseshoe. She certainly looked fragile with her height, but she must be very strong under that baggy shirt. An avid reader and a skilled blacksmith...  he had never met a woman like her.</p><p>“It’s unusual for a woman to be a blacksmith,” he began. He immediately noticed that she pressed her lips together, but he continued: “Did your father teach you—”</p><p>She didn’t look up. “There is no need for you to stay here and make conversation with me, Mr. Hux. I’m certain that the saloon is a much more appropriate place to wait.”</p><p>“Somehow I doubt that the local half-wits are better company than you are,” he replied with a thin smile on his lips.</p><p>“Ah, come to see the ‘exotic woman,’ have you?” she huffed. The old horseshoe fell on the ground and she began to clean the hoof with her pick. “If you want to satisfy your curiosity, I suggest you ride into Montana City. I hear there is a whole section of the town full of people of my ilk.”</p><p>What a feisty, sharp-tongued woman. He had to admit his curiosity was even more piqued. “You mean to tell me there are more female blacksmiths in Montana City than here?”</p><p>That made her look up. Her dark-brown eyes bore into his. “What? No, of course not—”</p><p>“I was referring to the book. In all my time in the West, last night must have been the first time I’ve seen somebody read a book in a saloon.”</p><p>She averted her gaze and continued to work, putting the horseshoe on the hoof. She took a nail and started to hammer it in. “Don’t let it fool you. I’m a terrible reader.”</p><p>He watched her skillfully doing her job. Solo had been right. It was obvious that Miss Tico knew exactly what she was doing. And the way she had handled York was impressive. She was interesting. So much more interesting than the women he had met back in London or in any other town for that matter.</p><p>He looked around and noticed a metallic contraption in the back of the stable. He stepped closer and ran his gloved hand over the dark iron wheel. It looked like a place to mount a rifle. He squinted. In the back were more metallic items. “Are you a gunsmith too?” he asked, unable to hide the surprise in his voice.</p><p>She was scratching the dirt from one of the hoofs. “My mentor was, but with all the new weapons factories in Montana City, people don’t need a gunsmith anymore.”</p><p>She was right of course. He himself had a Smith &amp; Wesson that hardly needed any adjustments when cared for properly. He cleared his throat. “But you could fix a gun, correct?”</p><p>Tico let go of York’s leg and straightened her back. “Sure. I actually like fixing guns. I’m a bit out of practice, but it’s not that hard. The workings of a gun are pretty simple, after all.”</p><p>Simple! Nothing about ballistics was simple! Was she joking? No, she looked serious. He frowned. “Your mentor, who was he?”</p><p>She sighed and patted York. “That will be 12 cents, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>Hux reached into his vest and produced the desired amount of coins. “I apologize for my curiosity, Miss Tico. I didn’t mean to offend.”</p><p>She glanced at him before quickly averting her gaze. “I’m not offended.”</p><p>Miss Tico suddenly seemed shy, and Hux didn't quite understand why. Until now, she had been quite sharp-tongued.</p><p>He bid her farewell and left.</p><p>***</p><p>Back at the ranch, he decided to pay his employer a visit. He entered the large mansion and walked up the broad stairs to the upper level. The walls were adorned with cattle skulls and large portraits of what he thought were Snoke’s ancestors. Perhaps he had just bought some oil paintings and hung them up, thought Hux with disdain. Snoke was nothing but a nouveau riche. He almost scoffed at himself, as if he were any better despite his upbringing.</p><p>He knocked politely at Snoke’s office door before entering. The room was decorated with pelts and hunting trophies on the walls. The room had an odd scent of sweet tea, old leather, and chewing tobacco.</p><p>Snoke sat hunched over his desk. He briefly looked up when Hux entered. Hux’s face remained perfectly neutral even though he still wasn’t used to the many smallpox scars on Snoke’s face. A twisted smile was on Snoke’s lips, making him look like a scarecrow.</p><p>“Ah, Mr. Hux,” began Snoke, leaning back in his chair. “I hear that you’ve already made quite an impression on Ellis.”</p><p>Hux put his hat on Snoke’s desk and gave him a polite nod before sitting down. “Mr. Ellis behaved badly towards the blacksmith. From the looks of it he wanted to teach her a lesson. I thought it imprudent to injure the only blacksmith in town.”</p><p>“That’s what I like about your kind, Mr. Hux. You actually think with your head and not with your cock, unlike most of my men.”</p><p>“That’s why you hired me, sir.”</p><p>Snoke laughed. It was a coarse, coughing laugh. “Of course I did. But you’re not a Pinkerton anymore, Hux. And even if the James-Younger-Gang were to make an appearance. It’s not your job to enforce law—that’s Sheriff Pryde’s job.”</p><p>“I agree, sir. But Sheriff Pryde doesn’t seem to be interested in doing his job. He was present when the events transpired.”</p><p>Snoke leaned forward, propping his elbows up on the oak desk. He took a piece of chewing tobacco and bit it off. “Pryde does as I say. I don’t care about the Chink, and neither does he. If she happens to disappear, I’ll just buy a new blacksmith from somewhere else.”</p><p>How very American, thought Hux. Thinking that everything can be bought… but then again, Snoke did buy him too, didn’t he? Hux leaned back, bringing some distance between him and Snoke’s face. “With all due respect, sir. You’re paying me to run a smooth operation. I need to do my job as I see fit, or I won’t be as effective as I could be.”</p><p>Snoke laughed again. Hux could see the dark brown tobacco between his teeth. “There is a reason why they fired you, Hux. You might do well to remember that.” </p><p>Hux pressed his lips together. “Yes, sir.”</p><p>“Good boy, off you go.” Snoke spit the tobacco into a small cuspidor next to his desk and waved him off.</p><p>Hux got up and gave Snoke a small nod before heading out of the office.</p><p>What a brute—despite all his wealth, all his privilege, he didn’t even have one single book in his office. All the papers on his desk were about cattle and the money he makes from them.</p><p>Hux went into his own room in the side house and hung his hat up. He ran his hand through his hair and exhaled. There he was, looking down on Snoke making money… just like his father.</p><p>He pulled the corners of his mouth down. He was no better than Snoke; Snoke was at least honest about his priorities, while Hux was still trying to keep up appearances. He loosened his cravat and sat down on the edge of his bed.</p><p>After a moment of reflection, he took a letter out of his drawer. It was time to put his plan into motion.</p><p>***</p><p>The next day, Hux was inspecting the herds and had to reprimand some of the cowboys for slacking off. As soon as they thought that he was out of earshot, they sniggered at his clothes or his manner of speaking. Hux didn’t care. He wouldn’t dress up as a cattleman just because it was expected of him.</p><p>The opinion of lowly ranch hands didn’t hold any interest anyway. He rode further along to check up on some of the fences. There were some in the northwestern region that he noticed were hanging rather low. He made a mental note and rode on.</p><p>He was once again met with lousy weather. Snow was falling lightly and the sky was a miserable grey. No matter, he had a job to do. After a few minutes of riding towards the southern fences he squinted.</p><p>There was someone at the fences. He smacked his lips and York began to trot. As he drew nearer, he saw that it was a dark-haired man in a thick lambskin jacket. He had put his hat on a post and was fixing the barbed wire.</p><p>“Good morning,” said Hux cautiously. Snoke had a number of Mexican workers in his employ, but he didn’t recognize this fellow.</p><p>The man gave him a brilliant smile, much to Hux’s surprise. “Morning!”</p><p>“You don’t work for Mr. Snoke, do you?” asked Hux, steadying York. From the corner of his eye he observed the man’s white-brown horse grazing next to him. He hadn’t even bound it to the post.</p><p>The man picked up his hat and put it on his head. “I don’t. I’m working for Leia Solo. And this,” he gestured to the plain behind him, “is our land.”</p><p>Hux clocked that the ranch hand called Mrs. Solo’s land ‘our’ land as if he was co-owner of it. Hm, sense of loyalty? Or simple-mindedness?</p><p>“I bet you’re the new manager, huh?” continued the man.</p><p>“The name is Hux, and I am. May I inquire about your name, Mister …?”</p><p>“Everybody calls me Poe.”</p><p>“I hope you understand that this is Mr. Snoke’s fence, Mr. Poe. Not yours.”</p><p>Poe grabbed his tools and whistled, the horse closed in and allowed him to put the tools into the saddle bag. “Of course, but why would I build a second fence for our cattle? Might as well fix this one.”</p><p>Hux had to admit that it made sense… it was efficient. It seemed that the Solos employed capable workers. “I see.”</p><p>Poe swung himself onto the horse. “You’re certainly an improvement from the last ranch manager.”</p><p>Hux scoffed. “How would you know?”</p><p>“Because you didn’t try to shoot me on sight.”</p><p>Hux tilted his head. “Perhaps I’m just a bad shot.”</p><p>“Yeah, right. That’s why you have a Henry Rifle,” he nodded towards the rifle attached to Hux’s saddle. “Nah, I bet you’re a good enough shot to ride close to a stranger.”</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>Poe lifted his hat and gave him a mocking bow. “It was a pleasure making your acquaintance, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>“Likewise, Mr. Poe,” said Hux cooly.</p><p>Hux watched him ride away. Snoke had already told him that the Solo, or rather the Skywalker ranch, was his biggest competitor. He had also mentioned with a broad grin that the young Solo was in his employ now and that Solo senior was pretty much a useless gambler.</p><p>He clicked his tongue and rode further along the fence.</p><p>From what he had heard, it was Mrs. Solo who kept the business at the Blue Rock ranch running. She had to be tough and smart in order to keep up with Mr. Snoke’s much bigger operation. He should inquire about the size of the Solo ranch as soon as the opportunity arose.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Blue Rock</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After checking that the cattle had enough hay and that a new salt stone had been put next to the watering place, Poe joined the other cowboys for dinner. He stirred listlessly at his bowl of food, sighing. As on most days, there was a stew with beans and meat. One of these days he needed to ask Leia if they couldn’t hire a proper cook.</p><p>Just as he shoved the last spoonful into his mouth, Leia Solo entered the room. Most of the workers had already started to play poker with their salary, giving her a polite nod as she walked by.</p><p>“Mrs. Solo,” said Poe with a brilliant smile, “how are you today?”</p><p>She chuckled and brushed over her dark blue dress before sitting down on a chair across from him. “I’m fine, thank you for asking, Poe.” She radiated warmth and authority, even when she came down to her ranch hands for a chat. “How are you?”</p><p>He clicked with his tongue. “Fine, considering that I had a run-in with one of Snoke’s goons.”</p><p>“Oh?” Her dark eyes lit up.</p><p>Poe bit his lip and cleared his throat. “I apologize… I didn’t mean to say ‘goon.’”</p><p>She sighed. “Don’t worry, Poe. This is a matter between my son and me, and yes—Snoke employs his fair share of ‘goons.’”</p><p>He pushed aside his empty bowl and pulled a bag with tobacco and papers out. “Alright.” He began to roll a cigarette. “I checked the fences. They’re all in good order. Fixed some of them a bit.”</p><p>“I take it that you met Snoke’s goon at the fences bordering his ranch?”</p><p>“Yeah, I saw him from a distance, and to my surprise he just rode up and asked me what I was doing.” He crooked an eyebrow. “Dressed all in black, with a fine coat and an even finer cravat.”</p><p>“Didn’t know that Snoke cared for city boys.” She snatched the finished cigarette from his hand and put it between her lips, lighting it up with a match she had produced with a sleight of hand.</p><p>He sighed and began to roll another cigarette. “Thing is, he dresses like a city boy, he looks like a city boy with his pretty face… but he knows what he’s doing. I think he’s dangerous.”</p><p>“How come?”</p><p>Poe shrugged. “Something in his eyes. He had a good, reliable rifle with him, and he was polite, calculating. And the way he casually held his hand close to his holster.”</p><p>“Interesting.”</p><p>“First I thought he was military, but his accent told another story. So did the way he posted the trot. He’s English, and he didn’t brag like the army folks. He just sat on his horse and watched me.”</p><p>Leia blew smoke out of her mouth. “I don’t like it. Snoke is a greedy man, but he is not an idiot. God knows what he’s planning now.”</p><p>Poe lit up his cigarette and took a drag. “That’s what I thought. I think I’ll visit the saloon tonight to hear if there are rumours floating around.”</p><p>She smiled and put the cigarette out before she rose to her feet. “Good man.”</p><p>Poe chuckled and said: “You owe me a cigarette.”</p><p>Leia waved off and retreated back into the main house.</p><p>***</p><p>“Rey!” exclaimed Poe with a wide grin. “You are a sight for sore eyes!” He quickly made his way through the busy saloon and leaned on the counter.</p><p>Rey Jakobson brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “And you have too much of a silver tongue for me to believe anything you say.”</p><p>“Your words wound me!” said Poe with a wink. “The usual please.”</p><p>She laughed and poured him a mug of coffee. “Didn’t think I would see you until Sunday.”</p><p>“Eh, you know me, I’m always good for a surprise.” He put his hat on the counter and unbuttoned his thick lambskin coat.</p><p>“Right.” She poured herself a whiskey and took a sip. “Wanna get down to business?”</p><p>“What makes you think that poor me—”</p><p>She flashed a quick lopsided grin. “It’s not Sunday.”</p><p>He laughed. “Got me. So, I heard we have a newcomer in town. A proper dandy, dressed in fine clothes, red hair, cold eyes.”</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson shrugs. “You mean Mr. Hux. Yeah, he was here, accompanied by Ben Solo and that horrible Ellis.”</p><p>“So he’s got friends, huh?” Poe scanned the room. He couldn’t see any men from the Sweetwater ranch. Good.</p><p>“When I came from the hardware store I saw him standing in front of Rose’s,” she said and gulped the whiskey down. “I hardly spoke to the man, but she might know more about him.”</p><p>“Rose?”</p><p>“The blacksmith.”</p><p>“Ah yes… Tico. Is she around?”</p><p>“I haven’t seen her today, but then again she isn’t a regular.” She grimaces. “You know why, right?”</p><p>Poe sighs. Of course he knew why. The white folks barely respected him and the black cowboys, but they at least had guns and fists and of course the backing of their ranchers. Tico had nothing since the old blacksmith died.</p><p>“I think I’ll pay her a visit,” he mumbled to himself. It was odd—why would Hux bother to call on her? If his clothes were any indication, his horse was likely in an equally good condition and he wouldn’t need her services the moment he arrived in town.</p><p>***</p><p>Poe was about to untie Beebee from the saloon’s post when he spotted the blacksmith on the other side of the street. She was hauling two large bags of charcoal with her donkey. He hurried across the muddy roadway to intercept her.</p><p>“Hey Tico!” he said.</p><p>Tico nodded towards him. “Does Beebee need new horseshoes already?”</p><p>He offered her a cigarette. She slowed her step and frowned. “What’s this?”</p><p>“I got a couple of questions and I figured that you would like something in return.”</p><p>“What kind of questions?” Cautious as ever. With everything that she’s had to endure, it wasn’t a surprise.</p><p>He smiled at her. “Relax, it’s just me.”</p><p>She exhaled and took the cigarette. “Sorry, force of habit. I guess you want to talk about Hux, huh?”</p><p>“Is it that obvious?” He ignites a match and offers her fire.</p><p>She leaned forward, holding the cigarette into the flame and taking a drag. “There is not much else going on, is there? And seeing as he works for Snoke, it makes sense that you want to check him out.” Tico gave her donkey a soft prod. “Come on, Petal, move on.” The donkey bleated and resumed its way.</p><p>“I hear he came to talk to you. Care to share your insights?”</p><p>She scoffed. “What makes you think I have any?”</p><p>He buried his hands in his coat. “Come now—of course you have insights. You’re probably one of the smartest people in this shithole. At least you get that not everybody from the south is a Mexican. I’m from Guatemala for fuck’s sake.”</p><p>Tico chewed on her lip. “And I’m not Chinese, but they just don’t get it. It’s exhausting, isn’t it? And it will never change.”</p><p>“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up.”</p><p>“It’s alright. What do you want to know?”</p><p>“I met Hux earlier. Made quite an impression. What did you guys talk about?”</p><p>For a moment he thought that she blushed. “Long story short: I lost something and he brought it back, and he wanted me to take care of his horse. New horseshoes and all that.”</p><p>Poe smacked his lips. “There is a longer story?”</p><p>Tico grimaced. “Help me unload the charcoal and I’ll tell you.”</p><p>He nodded. This might prove interesting.</p><p>“One of Snoke’s newer henchmen hassled me at the saloon. He went too far, and Rey kicked him out. He waited for me outside and wanted to… well, mess me up. We got into a tussle and I thought I was done for when Solo and Hux appeared. But it turned out that they didn’t want to lose a blacksmith because of some moron. Hux threatened him with a knife and ordered him to go away.”</p><p>They arrived at the smithy and Poe lifted one bag from the donkey while Tico took the other. “What happened then?”</p><p>“Not much—I left after that. I guess in the tussle I accidentally dropped a book Rey had lent me. He came to see me the next day and returned it. He had found it in the snow. Then he commissioned me to do the horseshoes and we talked for a bit.” She pulled the door open and they entered the smithy.</p><p>With a huff Poe put the bag next to the fireplace. “Interesting. And what did he talk about? Did he want to know about the town?”</p><p>“No, he asked a bunch of questions about me. He seemed very curious. Polite and curious.”</p><p>Poe put his hands on his hips. Hm, strange. This Hux was an odd one; skilled with a knife, probably a very good shot, polite, and forward-looking. Poe didn’t like it. Snoke was already a pain without a capable right hand man. Ben Solo was not without skill, but he got the feeling that this Hux was the means to something he couldn’t fathom yet.</p><p>“You said you met him too,” she suddenly said. “What happened?”</p><p>He huffed. “Nothing happened. He was polite and curious, just like you said.”</p><p>She went outside and led Petal into the stable; Poe followed her. “There was something in his eyes. Hard to describe,” he said.</p><p>“His eyes?”</p><p>“Yeah, as if he was looking straight through me. Cold and calculating.”</p><p>Tico gave Petal a few fistfuls of hay. “I didn’t notice,” she said a little too quickly.</p><p>“Well, thanks for taking the time to speak with me. See you around, Tico.” He lifted his hat slightly and left.</p><p>He marched through the mud until he was in front of the saloon once again. He patted Beebee and got into the saddle. As he rode out of town he mulled over what he had heard.</p><p>Perhaps he should visit the saloon when one of Snoke’s goons was there. It would be interesting to hear what exactly Hux’s role was and what Ben Solo thought of him. Poe had thought up until now that Solo was running the day-to-day business of the ranch. Either Solo was on his way out or Hux wasn’t there to do Solo’s job.</p><p>Either way, it was interesting. So was Tico’s reaction. She had blushed when she first mentioned that Hux had brought the book back. Eh, perhaps he was too suspicious. Tico might simply like the looks of Hux. He was a handsome man, he had to admit.</p><p>Damn, he should have asked Rey if she had recognized the accent. It sounded very similar to hers, after all. Oh well, the elusive Mr. Hux wasn’t a puzzle to be solved in one day.</p><p>***</p><p>The next few days flew past and Poe was kept busy with his daily tasks, as well as keeping an eye on the ranch hands and cowboys. Sunday arrived much faster than he had expected—it was his favorite day of the week. Every second Sunday he rode into town and visited Mrs. Jensen’s establishment. After that he usually visited the saloon, drank the good booze, and played a few hands of poker before returning to the ranch.</p><p>He was certain that Leia knew about his vices, but at least she had the good graces not to bring it up like some other ranchers did. From what he had heard, other cattlemen and cowboys had to endure lectures if they indulged in simple pleasures like drinking or gambling.</p><p>Poe respected Leia even more for that. She didn’t care about preaching morality to those around her. In fact, her husband was a rapscallion who regularly disappeared to pursue ‘business opportunities.’ How a lady like her had ended up with the notorious Han Solo was beyond him. But then again, he saw how they looked at each other when they were together: full of affection and understanding. When they weren’t bickering of course.</p><p>They didn’t judge people, neither those in their employ nor themselves.</p><p>Poe slid off Beebee’s saddle and tied his horse on the post right in front of Mrs. Jensen’s house. He didn’t turn around, but he could feel the eyes of the good people of the town burning on his back. He made an effort to appear unfazed as he sauntered to the door and entered the local brothel.</p><p>He found Mrs. Jensen seated on a small couch just inside the entrance. She wore heavy make-up and her corset was laced so tight that it hurt just looking at her. Poe took her hand and kissed it. “Good day to you, madam.”</p><p>She laughed—it was an honest, barking laugh. Poe was rather fond of it.</p><p>“Oh, Mr. Poe! Charming as ever.”</p><p>He licked his lips. “You know me, I can’t help myself.”</p><p>She nodded and patted his hand. “Dorothy is waiting for you.”</p><p>Another thing he appreciated about her was her discretion and her tact. He climbed the stairs to the upper level, heart heavy. He didn’t know why he felt like this whenever he visited this house. He had made peace with himself a long time ago, or so he thought.</p><p>He headed for the last door at the end of the hallway and turned the doorknob. He quickly stepped inside and smiled. “Hi.”</p><p>Jimmy smiled back and got up from the bed. He was a bit taller than Poe. Judging from his broad shoulders and his rough hands, he was a farmer. Poe had seen him a couple of times in town, but they had never talked to each other in public. All they shared were these lonely Sunday afternoons.</p><p>Jimmy cupped Poe’s cheek and leaned down to kiss him. Poe caught his lips in a hungry kiss. He ran his hands over the other man’s back and enjoyed the caress of loving hands on his body.</p><p>***</p><p>Two hours later Poe entered the saloon. Jimmy’s taste still lingered in his mouth. He could still feel his warmth, his comfort. Now he had to pretend for two weeks until he could visit Mrs. Jensen again.</p><p>“Heeey!” hollered Ouray, one of his Native ranch hands. “Poe! Over here!” He and Oliver were sitting at a table, two empty whiskey glasses in front of them.</p><p>Poe waved back and joined them. “How are you?”</p><p>Oliver seemed already quite drunk, judging from his red cheeks. “Good, good. I’m telling young Ouray over here how to get himself a cute missus. Care to join us and add your two cents?”</p><p>Ouray nodded eagerly. “Yeah, you are quite hot-blooded, aren’t you? Flirting with every skirt and even visiting the fine ladies at Mrs. Jensen’s!”</p><p>A small stab pierced Poe’s heart as he leaned back in the chair and forced himself to smile. “What can I say? It’s a gift and a curse.” He drew breath to tell them some cock-and-bull story when the noise in the saloon suddenly died down.</p><p>Poe glanced over his shoulder and saw the reason standing in the doorway: it was none other than the proprietor of the saloon, Luke Skywalker. He looked even worse than the last time he had seen him: his grey frizzy beard was dirty, his clothes were more or less rags, and he wore an old trilby hat that had seen better days.</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson beamed at him. “Luke!” She rounded the counter and ran towards the old hermit, hugging him.</p><p>“Who the fuck is that?” whispered Ouray.</p><p>“That old coot is Luke Skywalker. He owns the saloon,” said Oliver in a low voice. “He used to be a big shot back in the day.  He worked with his sister Leia—Mrs. Solo—back on the family ranch. One day he decided to become a gold digger instead, mumbling something about this being his destiny.”</p><p>“Oh, and how come he’s—”</p><p>“The saloon was in a terrible state before Mrs. Jakobson arrived. In fact, it was so run-down that old Luke was able to buy it with a few gold nuggets,” continued Oliver. “Over time it just happened that she took over and he disappeared into the hills again.”</p><p>Poe chuckled. “He only stays for a day or so, to get new equipment. I bet we won’t see him all winter.”</p><p>Oliver proded Poe. “Hey, do you know if he’s rich or anything?”</p><p>Poe shook his head. “The great gold rush is over. All he finds are small nuggets. It’s enough to keep him going, but he can’t support the saloon.”</p><p>“Too bad.”</p>
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<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Dark Valley</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was nearing midnight when Rose finally closed her book and set it aside for the night. She was curled comfortably in bed, her blanket keeping her cozy and warm for her nightly ritual of reading before sleep. She had just finished the second chapter of the novel; the protagonist had been invited to a glamorous ball where she hoped to meet with the prince.</p><p>Rose couldn’t help but smile a bit. A ball must really be something! They probably only served the best whiskey, nobody would wear their cowboy boots—and the women would all wear their Sunday best! And of course the women would all have fancy hair-dos with ringlets. Her imagination conjured up images of a lavish feast, and elegant people dancing gracefully on a polished floor.</p><p>The men were all tall, clean-shaven, and proper. The women would be equally tall and charming, with beautiful hair rivalling Rey’s. There were no balls in Silver Gulch, of course—only dances. She briefly wondered if there were balls in Montana City before she settled in for the night.</p><p>She glanced one last time at the photo of her family before blowing the candle out. Just when she was about to fall asleep, she heard raised voices on main street. It sounded like an argument. Curiosity got the better of her, so she pulled the makeshift curtain on her little window back to see what it was about.</p><p>An old man with a grizzly beard was arguing with a tall figure. It was snowing lightly and Rose couldn’t see who the taller man was. The old man was Luke Skywalker. She only heard snippets of conversation, too little to make heads or tails of it. She put the curtain back in place and closed her eyes. Moments later she had drifted off.</p><p>***</p><p>In the morning, she climbed down the ladder into the smithy and started a fire. Then she went to check on Petal. The donkey was chewing on some leftover hay and snuffled when it saw her. Rose chuckled a little when she saw that Petal had company—a stray ginger cat had somehow gotten in and was staring at her with its yellow eyes. Oh well, at least there would be a few less rodents about.</p><p>She headed back to the smithy and was in the middle of putting the kettle on for tea when somebody rapped at the door. She rubbed over her sleepy eyes before answering. Hux was standing in front of her and lifted his hat politely.</p><p>“Good morning, Miss Tico.”</p><p>“Uh,” she stammered, “good morning, Mr. Hux. How can I help today?”</p><p>“Do you happen to have a grindstone I could use?”</p><p>She took a step back and let him in. “Sure, it’s in the back.”</p><p>He followed her as she led him to the grindstone near the fireplace. He thanked her and commenced with the work of sharpening his knife. She took the kettle off the fire and eyed the weapon. It must be the same weapon he threatened with Ellis. It was an ordinary knife like most cowboys had to cut rope.</p><p>“I admit that I wanted to visit you again to satisfy my curiosity,” he began as he dragged the stone over the blade.</p><p>She frowned. “What about?”</p><p>“The book,” he said. “I thought it impertinent to look at it without your permission. But I keep wondering what it is about.”</p><p>Was he mocking her for reading silly novels about nobles falling in love? What now? Was she supposed to play along? Or was he being candid? To win time, she cleared her throat. “Uh, how about a cup of tea?”</p><p>He smiled and she noticed that his eyes were green, like branches of a young fir tree. She didn’t know what Poe had seen, but these weren’t cold eyes. On the contrary. “Yes please,” he said.</p><p>She put a second mug on the small table and poured the tea. She still needed to answer his question. “Uh, it’s a book about uh,” quick, something… anything… “about firearms.” She cleared her throat. “I wanted to read up on them. I still have a stash of old weapons in the back, and I could sell them if I get them in working order.”</p><p>“Ah, I see.” He finished his task and came over to take his cup of tea. “I admit I hoped that it would be one of the classics. I’m quite partial to the ancient Greek myths, you see.”</p><p>She stared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about. “Greek myths? What are those?”</p><p>“Tales about old gods,” he replied. “Quite a fascinating read. If you should ever come across it, I can highly recommend it.” He took a sip of tea and hesitated before he took another sip.</p><p>Rose didn’t know what to say. Why was he here in the first place? To make fun of her for reading books? Or to drink low-quality tea with some dirty blacksmith in her filthy workplace? She let her eyes wander over his impeccable clothes, his crisp sideburns, and his unusual ginger hair. He was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Kind and handsome. She averted her gaze and looked down into her mug.</p><p>He took another sip of tea. “Is this your own blend, Miss Tico?”</p><p>She pulled herself together. “It is. It’s hard to get tea out here. I can sometimes buy it off travellers, or place an order when the store orders something from the city.” She shrugs. “I use dried dandelions to stretch the tea. But of course it gets rather bitter.”</p><p>“I’m quite partial to bitter tea,” he said with a thin smile. “I didn’t even know that one could use dandelions to make tea.”</p><p>Hearing him admit that he didn't even know about something so basic made her sit up straighter. That’s right! She didn’t need to feel bad about not having read stories about gods! She knew a lot this city boy had never heard about! “Nettle works too, but I like the taste of dandelions better.”</p><p>“You mentioned weapons you want to sell… mostly handguns, I assume? Any collector pieces among them?”</p><p>“Yeah, most of them are older than this town and are too rusty to shoot straight. A few LeMats and Remington-Beals among them. Even a rusty Gatling gun. But nothing compared to your gun, of course.” She nodded towards the state of the art Smith &amp; Wesson hanging on his hip.</p><p>“Hm, LeMat… haven’t seen many of them lately. Accuracy isn’t great.”</p><p>He really knew about guns! She put her tea down and went to rummage in the back. She reappeared with a rusty LeMat and handed it to him. “Look at that barrel—it’s a cavalry weapon. You could improve the aim if you replaced it with a properly calibrated, longer one.”</p><p>He put his tea down and took the revolver in both hands. “Indeed! What a fine thought! Such an improvement had never occured to me. You are most certainly a skilled gunsmith.”</p><p>She smiled a little. “There is much one can do with the proper tools. I also have an old breechloader from the old settlers. The wood has rotted off the handle, but it could easily be replaced.”</p><p>Now she understood why he was here. Of course he didn’t want to talk about books or drink tea—he obviously wanted to talk about guns. Yes, that made much more sense. Perhaps he was a collector like Mr. Snoke was? “If you’re interested, I could polish this one up and make it work again.”</p><p>Hux smiled at her. “I would love that, Miss Tico. Thank you for the tea and of course for letting me use the grindstone.” He reached inside his vest and gave her three cents. “I hope this covers your expenses?”</p><p>It was too much, of course, but she felt that since they were about to enter a business relationship, it would have been silly to refuse. “Of course, thank you.”</p><p>She watched him leave and felt relieved. Now that everything was clear, she didn’t need to worry about his intentions. Come to think of it, she had been quite blind—of course he wanted to do business with the only blacksmith in town.</p><p>***</p><p>Rose was in high spirits the whole day. It had felt so invigorating to talk about guns with someone who was equally interested in the topic! After sharpening the barber’s tools and replacing a couple of horseshoes, she sat at the table and started to take the LeMat apart. They hadn’t agreed on a timeframe, but she might as well start now.</p><p>She worked as long as the light was good enough and cooked herself a nice pot of stew. Rose remembered the cat in the stables and cut a small piece of bacon for it. The cat was dozing in the straw and jumped up as soon as Rose appeared.</p><p>“Easy, I’m not here to hurt you,” she cooed. Rose put the small piece of meat on the floor and stepped back. The cat stared at her, her small nose sniffing the air. Suddenly it lunged forward, grabbed the meat, and retreated back into her corner.</p><p>“Don’t get used to it, cat,” Rose said. “That’s just because I had a really good day.”</p><p>The cat devoured the bacon and stared at Rose while licking its muzzle.</p><p>She chuckled to herself and went back to eat her dinner. Just as she was cleaning out the pan with a piece of bread, she heard screams outside. She jumped up and ran to investigate.</p><p>A throng of people had gathered around a cart. Rose had to stand on her tiptoes to catch a glimpse inside, and when she saw old Luke Skywalker’s body with an open wound in his chest laying there, she gasped. He looked like he had been dead for hours. His eyes were glassy and his lips were blue and brittle. And the way the wounds looked… it wasn’t a pretty sight.</p><p>She heard Rey’s voice as she demanded to be let through. The owner of the cart, a middle-aged black goldminer, lifted his arm to wave her off. “Mrs. Jakobson, please, this is no sight for a lady.”</p><p>Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I want to see him!” At the sight of his body, Rey stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh… Luke,” she sniffled. Her trembling hand reached down and caressed his dirty beard and his cold cheeks.</p><p>The goldminer had enough sense to come forward and put two coins on Luke’s eyes to close them. Then he awkwardly patted Rey’s back. “I found him out by the bend in Brushy Creek, where Old Jorgen got thrown from his horse and broke his leg last year.”</p><p>Rey pulled herself together and wiped the tears away. “The creek? That’s not his spot. His claim is near Sweetwater ranch, upstream a couple of miles, on the hill just above the treeline.”</p><p>The man shrugged. “I know.”</p><p>Rose put her hand on Rey’s arm and squeezed it. “I’ll go get Sheriff Pryde.”</p><p>Rey nodded, sniffling. “Yes, please.”</p><p>She quickly went into the smithy to get her coat and headed for the Sheriff’s office on the other end of town. When she arrived there, she knocked hard on the door and entered without waiting for an invitation.</p><p>Pryde’s deputy, a pale young man, twitched nervously when she banged the door shut again. “What—”</p><p>Sheriff Pryde sat behind his desk, boots propped up casually on the tabletop. He calmly lowered the newspaper enough to see her. “I hope you have a very good reason to barge in here.”</p><p>“Luke Skywalker has been murdered, Sheriff. A miner brought his body into town,” Rose said a little breathlessly.</p><p>Pryde folded the newspaper and grabbed his hat and his coat. “Very well, I’ll have a look.” He also took his revolver and put it into the holster. “Mitaka, you stay here.”</p><p>The deputy fidgeted anxiously with his hands. “But sir—”</p><p>Pryde scoffed and looked down on Rose. “Make sure that no rabble comes barging in.”</p><p>Rose gritted her teeth but kept quiet. She watched Pryde strut out of his office. The day had started too well… to think that it had to end like this.</p><p>“H—Hey you,” said Mitaka, trying to prance a little. “You need to leave.”</p><p>Rose crooked an eyebrow. “Why?” She might be too much of a coward to take on Pryde, but she could handle his deputy.</p><p>“Well, the Sheriff said to make sure that no r—rabble comes in.”</p><p>“Provided I’m the rabble he was talking about. I’m already inside. He didn’t say anything about getting rid of said rabble, right?”</p><p>Mitaka now looked positively miserable. “Please, Miss Tico, the Sheriff always gets so angry with me… can’t you just leave?”</p><p>Rose huffed. “You’re his nephew, right? Tell him to act like an uncle from time to time.”</p><p>Mitaka looked confused. She left before he had a chance to answer.</p><p>When she returned to the place where the cart had been, it was already gone. Pryde probably had it transported to the local barber, who sometimes acted as a frontier doctor, for him to examine the wound. She returned to her home and cleaned the dirty dinner pan. She felt restless and anxious. Perhaps she should check up on Rey?</p><p>***</p><p>The atmosphere in the saloon was muted. Rey sat at a table in the back and drank whiskey. Kit was manning the bar. Even the drunks had the good sense to keep it quiet.</p><p>“Do you want company?” asked Rose in a low voice.</p><p>Rey sniffled and nodded. She poured Rose a very generous glass and gestured for her to sit. “I don’t get it. Luke was a bit odd, but he was harmless. Why would anybody want to hurt him?”</p><p>“No idea. Do you think it’s possible that it was a robbery? I mean… he looked rather poor.”</p><p>“No, it doesn’t make any sense. If anybody were to rob a gold miner, they would do so when the poor sod goes into town, not when he comes back with empty pockets.”</p><p>Rose took a big gulp, the whiskey burning in her throat. “When did you last see him?”</p><p>“Yesterday. He was here and I told him to stay. Then he was suddenly gone. I thought he had changed his mind and had gone back or visited his sister.”</p><p>“I saw him yesterday,” said Rose slowly. “I was about to fall asleep when I heard something. He was arguing with someone.”</p><p>Rey sniffled again. “What? Who was he arguing with?”</p><p>She shook her head. “I don’t know. It was too dark and I couldn’t understand a word they were saying. All I know is that he talked to someone who was taller than he was.”</p><p>“That’s half the town.”</p><p>Rose bit her lip. “I know.” She racked her brain to remember something, anything. It had been dark, and she had clearly seen Luke’s beard. There had been a small flash… something glistening in the light reflected by the bright snow. Or was it only her imagination? No, she had seen it. But what did it mean? “I think… I saw something shiny when I peeked out my window.”</p><p>Rey leaned forward. “Shiny? What was it?”</p><p>“No idea—I remember it, but it was too dark.”</p><p>“Perhaps a knife?”</p><p>Rose shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. They kept talking. Luke would have bolted or screamed if the other man had drawn a blade or a gun.”</p><p>Rey slumped back into her chair. “I’m so tired, Rose. So fucking tired of this place.”</p><p>“I know,” Rose drank more whiskey. “I think we should just leave. Get away from this godforsaken town.”</p><p>“Sometimes I dream about how my life would’ve worked out if I hadn’t accepted Wil’s proposal, or rather his offer.” Rey buried her face in her hands. “It’s all gone to shit.”</p><p>“I know.” Rose cleared her throat. “But you were in a tight spot back in Topeka anyway. At least you had a couple of good months with Wil, right?”</p><p>Rey sniffled and smiled a bit. “I did. And I know it’s rare for a mail-order bride to get a good man like Wil, a pity that he died so young. And now… Luke’s gone. I have no idea what will happen now—to me or to the saloon.” She wiped her eyes again. “You must think I’m pretty selfish, huh? Luke is barely cold and all I can think about is me.”</p><p>Rose took Rey’s hand. “Do you remember what I did when Old Tom died?”</p><p>“You went on a three day bender and puked right there in that corner. It took me three days to get the stench out of the room.”</p><p>“That’s right, and we won’t even talk about all the things I said back then, right?”</p><p>“Right.”</p><p>“The way I see it, there are no rules to mourning a—a loved one. They were our family, our fathers. Some cry for days, others sit in a corner all numb, and some might think what their lives will look like without them.”</p><p>Rey pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and dried her tears. “Thank you.”</p><p>Rose picked her nails, not knowing what to say next. Silence fell between them. Rey poured another glass.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Paint It Black</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Snoke called Hux and Solo into his office to inform them of Luke Skywalker’s passing. After Snoke had finished, he put tobacco in his pipe, eyeing Solo. “Sheriff Pryde will investigate, of course. I asked him to keep me updated.”</p><p>Solo tried his best to keep a straight face, but a very slight tremble on his lips betrayed his feelings. “I don’t care, sir.”</p><p>Snoke held a matchstick into the opening of the pipe and pulled at it, producing a small cloud of smoke. “A piece of advice: don’t ever lie to me. A blind man can see that you’re affected by his death.” He chuffed. “I don’t know why you still care about him and your kin, and I don’t care. Man up for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Snoke looked at Hux as if he expected his agreement. When he remained quiet, Snoke continued: “A real man doesn’t shed tears, boy. He avenges those who have wronged him.”</p><p>“Yes sir,” pressed Solo out.</p><p>“Off you go,” said Snoke and waved them off.</p><p>They left the office and Solo stormed down the stairs, clearly agitated by the news he had received. Hm, interesting. Hux had seen his share of estranged families, and Solo certainly didn’t look detached. The Solo kin certainly had a history he would like to hear.</p><p>He went outside and found Solo standing on the porch, angrily pacing back and forth. Despite his athletic appearance and his goatee, he seemed young. Hux offered him a cigarette.</p><p>Solo stopped his pacing and took it. Hux put another cigarette in his mouth and ignited a match on the wooden post. When Solo leaned down to take the fire, Hux noticed that his hand was trembling.</p><p>Solo noticed his gaze and grimaced. “I don’t care about that old coot. I was just surprised to hear that he kicked the bucket.”</p><p>He wanted to talk. All Hux had to do was listen. If he had learned one thing at the Pinkerton Detective Agency, it was that asking questions was one thing, but hearing what the people really said was something else entirely. “Really?”</p><p>Solo resumed his pacing. “There is a reason why I left! And I would never go back.”</p><p>“Nobody asked you to,” replied Hux dryly.</p><p>“Fuck you,” mumbled Solo. “I need a drink. I’ll ride into town.”</p><p>Hux sighed. “First you need to do your job. There are still fences in the southwest that need fixing.”</p><p>With a huff he threw the cigarette on the porch, stamped on it, and marched to his horse. Hux calmly smoked his cigarette as he watched him disappear towards the southwest. Then he went back inside.</p><p>Snoke sat at his desk as before, still smoking his pipe. “Sir, do you have a minute?”</p><p>“Of course, Mr. Hux. Come on in.”</p><p>“You asked me to keep an eye on your workers, and I was wondering if I should pay special attention to the Solo boy?”</p><p>Snoke grinned, the small-pox scars twisting his face into something unnatural. “You are a sharp one, aren’t you?”</p><p>“Sir.”</p><p>“You’re right, of course. There is a reason why I keep Solo close. He is a good worker and has cattle in his blood. He knows more about it than you could ever hope to learn from your books.” Snoke coughed and spit into the cuspidor. “And he is the sole heir of the Blue Rock ranch. In ten years or so dear Mrs. Solo won’t be able to run things with her iron hand. Sooner or later all the cattle in Silver Gulch will be mine.”</p><p>It made sense, of course. Snoke had time and money. All he had to do was keep young Solo close. “I understand, sir.”</p><p>“I never had kids myself,” continued Snoke, “but when I see Solo I sure hope they would have been tougher than this fool. Carries his heart on his sleeve. Must be that cursed Skywalker blood.”</p><p>“I sent Solo to work. I’m certain that he will visit the saloon later,” Hux tipped his hat. “I will keep an eye on him.”</p><p>Snoke laughed—it sounded hoarse and more like a cough. “That’s where he always is... ogling the pretty widow. Well, I can’t blame him.”</p><p>***</p><p>Hux rode into town despite the heavy snowfall. He had to admit that he was curious about three things: Ben Solo’s story, whether there was news about the murder, and of course if Miss Tico was reading again in the saloon.</p><p>Thoughts about Miss Tico had increased since the last time he had seen her. He wondered if she had read the book about guns already. He was also curious if she had been able to fix the LeMat revolver… he could invite her for a proper tea and talk with her for a bit.</p><p>His first visit was to the barber; he had put Skywalker’s body in a freshly made coffin and had put it outside to keep it cool. On his request the barber opened the lid so that he could have a look at the deadly wound.</p><p>He didn’t know why he even bothered. He wasn’t a Pinkerton anymore, and Sheriff Pryde had most certainly already investigated the body. Perhaps he still was more of a detective than he had thought.</p><p>He didn’t notice anything extraordinary about the body. Luke Skywalker had died from a gunshot wound. Judging from the exit wound, he had been shot by a revolver and not a rifle. Hux checked his belt—Skywalker wore no holster, only a bowie knife.</p><p>He mulled over what he had seen as he made his way to the saloon. Something felt off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He saw Solo’s horse among others tied to the post in front of the saloon. Well, first things first.</p><p>Hux entered and was immediately overwhelmed by the smell of booze, sweat, and wet clothes. The warmth prickled on his cold face as he scanned the room, patting off the snow from his coat. To his disappointment he registered that the corner table wasn’t occupied by a reading blacksmith, but by a group of black cowboys playing cards. Right next to them sat a smaller group of white ranch hands eyeing them with scowls on their faces.</p><p>Solo was standing at the corner of the counter, three empty glasses in front of him. He watched Mrs. Jakobson pour out drinks and chewed on his lower lip. Hux approached the counter and unbuttoned his coat, taking care to straighten his cravat.</p><p>Solo glanced at him but remained silent. There was a slight flush on his cheeks. He must have had more than three drinks.</p><p>Hux peeled the black leather gloves off his hands and dropped them on the counter before him. Mrs. Jakobson gave him a friendly nod. She looked pale and her smile was off. “Good evening, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>“Good evening, Mrs. Jakobson. My condolences for your loss.”</p><p>Her eyes went wide. “Ah… thank you.” She wrung her hands. “What can I offer to you?”</p><p>“Black tea with a shot of whiskey please,” he replied evenly.</p><p>She disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a steaming mug of tea. “There you go.”</p><p>“Thank you.” Hux cleared his throat. “Is there a church or a priest where you can find comfort?”</p><p>She smiled sadly. “We have a travelling priest in this county. He visits every two weeks, but he is of little use to me.”</p><p>Solo shifted his weight, clearly uneasy with the conversation. He quickly gulped down the rest of his whiskey.</p><p>“Oh?”</p><p>“Did you really think that he would welcome a woman running a saloon into his parish?” she asked pointedly. “I didn’t take you for naive, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>Hux bowed his head slightly. “My apologies. I thought it best not to assume.” He paused for a moment. “Your accent… you are from London, aren’t you?”</p><p>She crooked an eyebrow. “We are both far away from the motherland, aren’t we?” She started to clean the counter with a rag. “Your accent, on the other hand, doesn’t place you in a city but in a certain environment, sir.”</p><p>Solo raised his head and squinted at Hux. Well, it wasn’t a secret… not really. His upper-class accent was bound to attract some attention. “Indeed.”</p><p>She poured Solo another glass. “It’s rare to see your kind here, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>“I’m betwixt and between. It’s true that I enjoyed the patronage of a gentleman, but my blood is an entirely other matter, I’m afraid.”</p><p>She flashed a knowing smile. “I see. You came to the New World to escape said ‘patronage’.”</p><p>“What better way to elude the grasp of the Empire’s finest than to set course for the renegade colonies?”</p><p>“Perhaps we’re renegades ourselves, Mr. Hux.”</p><p>“If I may say so, you don’t look like a renegade.”</p><p>“Neither do you,” retorted Rey.</p><p>She noticed that some of her patrons had empty glasses and left to attend to them. The door opened and Hux turned his head to see if it was Miss Tico, but to his disappointment it was only an old farmer limping in.</p><p>Solo put his hand on his arm. “I see what you’re doing, Hux.” He slurred his words and looked even more flushed than before.</p><p>Hux crooked his eyebrow. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>Solo puffed himself up. “Y—You’re trying to smooth-talk Mrs. Jakobson, with your silly accent and your blood and everything.”</p><p>“You are drunk, Mr. Solo. I can assure you that there is no ‘smooth-talking’ on my part.” Hux pulled a bag with tobacco out of his vest and started to roll a cigarette. “We’re merely making casual conversation.”</p><p>In this moment Mrs. Jakobson returned. “So what brings you—”</p><p>“I’m sorry too that he’s dead,” blurted Solo out.</p><p>Hux tilted his head. He wasn’t exactly surprised at the statement but rather at the blunt way it was delivered. Solo had struck him as a brooding, silent man. The pair had barely exchanged more than a few words. But it seemed that the alcohol was loosening his tongue… or perhaps it was his attempt to divert some of Mrs. Jakobson’s attention to him.</p><p>She sighed. “I know you are. He was your uncle, after all.”</p><p>“I didn’t know that you’re from London,” he said with a heavy tongue.</p><p>“Well, you never asked,” she replied slowly. Apparently she was confused by his outburst.</p><p>Solo licked his lips. “I—I…” he broke off, blushing so hard that it almost matched Hux’s cravat. He paused and then he drew breath again. “I don’t want you to leave… this saloon. I’ll talk to my mother because I think this is her’s now.”</p><p>Hux had a feeling that Solo wasn’t doing himself any favours with his clumsy, drunk attempts at conversation. Solo was clearly in love with her and had enough liquid courage to try to articulate his feelings. But it wasn’t really his problem, was it? He wasn’t Solo’s chaperone.</p><p>There was a hard line around her mouth. “I appreciate your words, Mr. Solo, but I don’t need favours. I’m perfectly able to ask Mrs. Solo myself should the occasion arise.”</p><p>“I know, but I like you and—”</p><p>“Mr. Solo! I’m well aware that you never visited your uncle when he had the bad cough last winter. You never even cared to inquire about him. If you will excuse me, I need to attend to my other guests.” She gave them a polite nod and left.</p><p>Solo collapsed more or less on the counter, looking even more miserable than before.</p><p>Hux took a sip of his tea. “A piece of advice: never talk to a lady when you’re inebriated.”</p><p>“Shut up!” hissed Solo. “It’s easy for you with your fancy clothes and your fancy words! It’s not my fault that I’m not from England or that I’m stuck in this shitty valley!”</p><p>Hux lit up his cigarette. “You know it’s not about that.”</p><p>Solo swayed. “Huh?”</p><p>“Why didn’t you visit your uncle when he was ill?” This should prove interesting. Maybe he could get to the bottom of the Solo rift.</p><p>“Because he didn’t like me,” he replied in a low voice. “Everything I did was wrong. Nothing could please that old coot!”</p><p>Hux watched the young man. Solo ran his hand nervously through his dark hair, looking desperate. Then he clenched his hand to a fist before opening it again. “I saw it in their eyes… they both think I’m like <em>him</em>!”</p><p>Hux took a drag from his cigarette and blew the smoke out of his nostrils. Solo was probably talking about his mother and his uncle. “Like whom?”</p><p>“My father! He disappears without so much as a word and they all forgive him, laugh at his jokes, but it’s me who—” he broke off. Hux saw tears glistening in the corner of his eyes. He blinked a few times, then he dug out some coins from his pockets and threw them on the counter. Without further words he left.</p><p>Hux took a sip of his tea. For a small town, the inhabitants certainly had their issues. But then again… wasn’t that the way of things? Men and women in constant conflict about their place in the world?</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson returned to collect the coins. “I apologize, Mr. Hux. As you have noticed, Mr. Solo and I don’t get along.”</p><p>Interesting choice of words, seeing as Solo was clearly infatuated with her. “I can’t help but wonder about the Solo family, Mrs. Jakobson. Would it be impertinent to ask you about them?”</p><p>She hesitated. “Well, it’s no secret. You might as well hear it from a reliable source. There are a lot of rumors going around about the nature of their falling-out.” She crossed her arms. “The truth is much simpler: Mrs. Solo started running the ranch instead of her father who suffered from consumption. She is a tough, headstrong, opinionated woman. I’m afraid her son has inherited those traits. They are so much alike it’s uncanny.”</p><p>“So they had a quarrel because of the nature of their characters? That’s not unheard of.”</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson sighed. “Of course not—and as always, it would be so easy to fix it. But when the well has been poisoned for so long that people don’t remember what fresh water tasted—” she interrupted herself. “Apologies, Mr. Hux. There is a time and place for poetry and this isn’t it.”</p><p>Hux crooked his eyebrow. “Are you interested in poetry?” He really had underestimated Silver Gulch and its inhabitants. His thoughts returned to Miss Tico. Perhaps she would enjoy poems? “You don’t happen to have poetry books?”</p><p>She scrunched her nose and frowned a bit. “You sure are an odd man, Mr. Hux. Are you certain that there is no blue blood in your veins? Were you in the habit of inquiring about poetry in the pubs?”</p><p>He chuckled. “You are right, of course. I tend to be a bit eccentric, I’m afraid.”</p><p>“Well, I have to disappoint you. Mrs. Solo is the only one with a proper library from what I hear. Doesn’t Mr. Snoke have one as well?”</p><p>He drank the rest of his tea. “Mr. Snoke is more interested in ledgers than letters.” He brushed over his vest. “Nothing wrong with that, of course.”</p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>The door was banged open and none other than Mr. Poe stepped into the saloon, together with a gust of cold wind and snowflakes. He stamped inside, shaking off a layer of snow from his clothes.</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson smiled at him. “Poe, how are you?”</p><p>He returned her smile and crossed the room. “Better now that I’m in good company!” He slapped Hux on the shoulder and took Mrs. Jakobson’s hand, kissing it. “My dear Rey, you are charming as ever.”</p><p>Hux frowned and was tempted to wipe an invisible speck off his shoulder. So they were on a first name basis? How unusual; but perhaps this was Mr. Poe’s way.</p><p>“What’s with the sour face, Mr. Hux? Surely you must relish Mrs. Jakobson’s charming presence,” said Mr. Poe with a lop-sided grin.</p><p>Hux didn’t deign to answer. Instead, he reached in his pocket to pay for the tea.</p><p>The grin faded from Mr. Poe’s face as he said quietly, “I’m sorry for your loss, Rey.”</p><p>Hm… he had rather quickly shed the happy-go-lucky attitude, registered Hux. It was just like back when they first met at the fence. At first glance, Mr. Poe seemed carefree and easy-going—but there was a sharpness in his eyes, a wit that was hidden behind his smile.</p><p>She shook her head softly. “It’s hard to believe that he’s really gone. How is Mrs. Solo holding up?”</p><p>“You know her—she is soldiering on. You should have seen her face when she heard the news… her eyes snapped immediately to the rifle above the fireplace. If she were a couple of years younger she would most certainly ride out and shoot the bastard who did this herself.”</p><p>The more Hux heard about the infamous Mrs. Solo, the more he wondered about her. It would be interesting to meet her in person. See if she was as hard as the people told him. See if she had the same cold eyes his own father had. He put coins on the counter and tipped his hat. “Mrs. Jakobson, Mr. Poe.”</p><p>Time to see if Mr. Solo was safely on his way to the ranch. A pity that Miss Tico hadn’t graced the saloon with her presence. Hux marched out of the saloon, wrapping his scarf around his neck. He petted York’s nose; perhaps he should let him warm up first? No, he needed to follow Solo.</p><p>He hoisted himself up on York’s back and clicked his tongue. Then he rode in the direction of the Sweetwater ranch.</p>
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<a name="section0006"><h2>6. The Mysterious Stranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poe watched Hux disappear into the night. The mysterious Mr. Hux… appearing in the most unlikely places. He eyed the empty mug on the counter. “Tea, eh? A true Englishman.”</p><p>Rey nodded. “We talked for a bit. It seems Mr. Hux was raised by a gentleman.”</p><p>“What’s that supposed to mean?”</p><p>“He had a noble beneficiary. I thought he was one himself with that posh accent, but he told me that he was just raised by one.”</p><p>Poe frowned. “Does that happen often? That some baron or whatever just raises a boy?”</p><p>She smiled. “I don’t know. It might surprise you, but I didn’t drink tea with high-born nobles as a street urchin.”</p><p>He chuckled. “Come now, you weren’t a street urchin.”</p><p>“Alright, but in the eyes of a lord I might well have been.” She scrunches her nose. “I always hated the look on their faces. At least I don’t have to worry about that here.”</p><p>“I don’t know what I should think about him, Rey. I talked to Tico like you advised me, but all I got was that he’s polite and curious.” Poe sighed. “The usual please.”</p><p>Rey went to get hot coffee and poured him a mug. “Well, he is curious. Asked me if I had any poetry books.”</p><p>He stared incredulously at her. “Poetry book? What the heck…”</p><p>“He reminds me of the old bobby who used to watch our borough. He was always lurking around, asking questions.” Rey put a second mug on the counter and poured herself some tea.</p><p>She was right—he seemed to be curious about everything, always asking and prodding. Watching everything with those cold eyes.</p><p>“You’re quiet,” said Rey.</p><p>“I can’t quite place this Hux and I don’t like it. What is someone like him doing here in Silver Gulch?”</p><p>Rey shrugged and stirred her tea. “He works for Snoke, like half the town.”</p><p>“Sure, but why would Snoke employ such a man?” Poe mulled over what Rey had told him. Was he the son of a business partner of Snoke’s? Or was he supposed to help Snoke find new customers in the city? Was that why he was dressed like a city boy?</p><p>She laughed. “You think because of his clothes and his manners he doesn’t need money?”</p><p>“But he—”</p><p>“Sometimes men are so dense. Didn’t you see that his fine coat was scuffy at the edges or that the buttons on his vest didn’t quite match up?”</p><p>Poe rubbed his temple. “But they were all golden and the coat looked very fine to me.”</p><p>Rey sighed. “I assure you, he has seen better times. You want to know why he works for Snoke? Because he needs money, just like the rest of us.”</p><p>Poe exhaled and stared into his mug. Could it be so simple? Hux was just a cattleman? An unusually nosy outsider who just happened to pop up when Luke Skywalker got shot? But then again, one wouldn’t need a well-dressed Englishman to shoot an unarmed old man.</p><p>“You’re still quiet,” said Rey again.</p><p>“I’m just thinking… something doesn’t add up. Skywalker’s murder I mean.”</p><p>She absentmindedly wiped the counter. “I know. I already talked to Rose about it. Nobody would rob him on his way back to his claim—he doesn’t even have a horse!”</p><p>“Yeah.”</p><p>“I thought I would visit the Sheriff tomorrow and ask him if he’s found the man Luke argued with,” said Rey with a sigh.</p><p>“What?” Poe stood up straighter, eyes wide. “That’s the first I’ve heard about this.”</p><p>“Rose saw Luke and a man argue the night before they found his body. It was dark and she didn’t see who the man was. She could only tell that he was taller than Luke.”</p><p>He should tell Leia about this, mused Poe. Perhaps she knew somebody who had a quarrel with Luke. Come to think of it… the only person he knew that had a grudge against Luke was Ben Solo. They were famously on bad terms. And Ben was taller than Luke.</p><p>What was he thinking? He was no lawman. He couldn’t just go around suspecting everyone. Best if he just minded his own business and let Sheriff Pryde do his job. He didn’t like the man; he was a condescending jerk, but he was capable enough.</p><p>He snapped out of his thoughts when he suddenly sensed the presence of someone standing next to him. It was that long suffering deputy of Pryde’s.</p><p>“Good evening, Mrs. Jakobson,” said Mitaka in a quiet voice.</p><p>Poor guy, he even blushed when he looked at Rey. Well, there were plenty of men who were awed by her beauty and grace, but Mitaka was positively in love with her. Had been since she had arrived in town three years ago.</p><p>“Good evening, Deputy—would you like a cup of hot coffee to drive the cold out of your bones?” asked Rey.</p><p>He glanced at Poe and licked his lips. “No, I—I would like a whiskey, please.”</p><p>“You sure? You told me that whiskey gives you heartburn.”</p><p>Mitaka blushed even harder. Again he glanced at Poe and cleared his throat. “That was just once, Mrs. Jakobson.”</p><p>“Alright,” Rey poured him a glass and he put his hat on the counter. Without the hat he looked even younger. There was a fuzz just visible on his upper lip, not quite a mustache yet.</p><p>“I just wanted to ask you if you needed more wood chopped, Mrs. Jakobson.” Mitaka drank the whiskey in small gulps and put the empty glass in front of him.</p><p>“Thank you, Deputy. But I already took care of it myself this morning. But pray tell—is there any news on the murder of Luke Skywalker?”</p><p>Mitaka shook his head. “The Sheriff hasn’t told me anything—but then again, he orders me to guard the prison even though it’s empty.” He frowns. “He always goes out alone. I told him that I think it’s dangerous when a murderer is on the loose…” he paled. “Uh, I—I don’t want you to think that you’re not safe, Mrs. Jakobson. I’ll keep an eye on you—on your saloon.”</p><p>Rey smiled. “You don’t need to worry about me, I have a shotgun right here behind the counter, you know. But it’s kind of you to care about the safety of the town and your uncle, Deputy.”</p><p>“Of course!” replied Mitaka, soaking up her words. “I—I even went up the mountain to the silver mine to settle a dispute. A rough bunch up there… but the owner, Mr. Canady, has an impressive grip over them.”</p><p>Poe crooked his eyebrow. “I bet he does. From what I hear, Canady runs a tight ship. Is it true that he only employs German settlers as workers?”</p><p>Mitaka nodded eagerly. “He does! They hardly speak any English, but the issue had been so clear that few words were needed to reprimand the troublemakers.”</p><p>It didn’t sound as if Canady really needed help to keep his men in line. Poor Mitaka was probably exaggerating a bit.</p><p>They continued to talk about the silver mine and the people up at the mountain. About an hour later, Poe took his leave.</p><p>On the porch outside he lit up a cigarette and was about to get on Beebee when a lone rider appeared like a wraith out of the dense snowfall. He was wearing a dark coat and had his hat pulled down, obscuring his face. Poe squinted a bit—he didn’t recognize the horse. Another newcomer?</p><p>The man lifted his head enough so that Poe caught a glimpse of his face. His breath faltered a bit when he saw the handsome face underneath it; dark-brown eyes seemed to glow in the meagre light that shone out of the saloon’s windows. A black cowboy out of nowhere, and the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on. Hell.</p><p>“Evening,” said the stranger.</p><p>Words failed Poe for the first time in his life. “Uh…”</p><p>The man swung his leg elegantly off the light grey horse he was riding, bound it to a post, and walked past Poe with heavy, measured steps. Poe swirled around on his own axis, but it was already too late—the mysterious stranger had already vanished inside.</p><p>Poe bit his lower lip and decided to leave before he made a mistake. Better if he just left. Although it was tempting to go back inside… watch the man a little longer. Perhaps talk to him once he regained his wits. No, this was an avoidable mistake. One that had cost some very good cowboys and ranch hands not only their work, but also their life.</p><p>With a heavy heart he climbed on Beebee’s back and rode back to the Blue Rock ranch. Sunday was only days away.</p><p>***</p><p>The next day was sunny and freezing cold. A good day to check the fences and move the dry hay. The salt delivery was for once on time, and Poe was just overseeing its storage when Leia approached him.</p><p>“Good morning, Poe.” Instead of her usual purple dress, she wore a pair of light trousers and a jacket. Her hair was bound in tight buns and she wore one of Han’s old hats. That didn’t worry him—what did was the rifle in her hands.</p><p>“Good morning, boss. It’s been a while since I saw you dressed up like that.”</p><p>She chuckled. “It’s been too long. I thought that I should have a look at Luke’s camp. Might as well ride up today since the weather is looking good.”</p><p>He pulled his hat from his head and clutched it to his chest. “May I accompany you, Mrs. Solo?”</p><p>“Do you think that I can’t handle myself?” she asked with a stern voice.</p><p>“I don’t worry about you—I worry about the others. And you might need somebody to hold your hat while you shoot all the people in this valley.”</p><p>Of course she saw through his flimsy joke, but she nodded to his relief. “Alright then—if you insist.”</p><p>Poe told Ouray to take over and together with Leia he went to the stables. She grunted a little when she put the saddle on Raddus, but Poe knew better than to offer help. With some effort she put her foot in the stirrup. After a short pause, she pulled herself up and sat down.</p><p>Poe was already waiting for her. Wordless, they rode across the fields towards the hills. When they reached the river they slowed down and moved a bit upstream to the makeshift bridge they had built from rocks last summer.</p><p>An hour passed before they reached the hills. A cold wind had set in, and Poe could see clouds of breath coming from Leia. He cleared his throat. “How about we take a break, Mrs. Solo?”</p><p>“I’m not some frail old woman,” she snapped in a hoarse voice.</p><p>Poe leaned slightly forward and Beebee picked up his pace until he was next to her. “Leia, please.”</p><p>She stared straight ahead.</p><p>“Leia, listen to me. We have known each other for ten years. There is no need to strain yourself like that.”</p><p>She sniffled. “It’s my fault. I should have told him to come home sooner.”</p><p>He rode in front of her, blocking her path. “Do you really need me to tell you that that’s a load of horseshit? Come on. You can’t control everything.”</p><p>She exhaled. “Perhaps we can take a short break.”</p><p>They dismounted. Poe took the rolled up blanket from Beebee and put it on a fallen tree. Leia groaned when she sat down. She massaged her thighs. “Perhaps I’m getting too old for that.”</p><p>Poe offered her his canteen. “Of course not, boss. You should just leave the hard stuff for the youngsters who still need to sow their wild oats.”</p><p>She took a gulp and handed it back to him. “Are you talking about yourself?”</p><p>He laughed and drank water before replying. “Nah, I’m past 30, boss. That’s why I leave Ouray in charge every now and then.”</p><p>“Have you sowed your wild oats then?” she said quietly.</p><p>He grimaced. “I have. That’s why I like keeping you company rather than wrangling cows with the boys.”</p><p>She picked up a small twig and twirled it in her gloved hands. “A grumpy old woman is hardly the company you should keep or the one you deserve, Poe.”</p><p>With everybody else he would dread what would follow next: the inevitable question about a sweetheart. Advice to get married to a nice girl. Leia was too wise for that. He didn’t know if she knew about his preferences, but she certainly never inquired about his marital status.</p><p>“I think a grumpy old woman is just the right company for me, boss.”</p><p>They sat a while in silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Poe let his gaze wander over the land before him; the fir trees were covered in glittering snow. In the distance, he could see Snoke’s Sweetwater ranch and his cattle moving like a brown mass to the water troughs.</p><p>***</p><p>Luke’s camp was surprisingly neat and tidy, his small log cabin scant but clean. Leia sifted through her brother’s meager possessions while Poe had a look around. He found Luke’s gold washing gear right outside the front door. He left Beebee at the camp and headed down to the river.</p><p>The currents were strong in places, so he walked until he found a quieter pool. As expected, he found traces of gold washing at the edges of the river: small mountains of sand and dirt, halfway covered by snow. To his surprise, he also discovered the carcasses of three lake trout on the riverside.</p><p>He picked up one of them and examined it. No bite marks and no injuries. How odd. Perhaps Luke had set a trap somewhere that broke in the last few days? He tossed the fish back into the river and returned to Leia.</p><p>“Find anything worthwhile?”</p><p>She nodded. “This cigar box.” She showed him the small wooden box before placing it securely in her saddlebag. “There is not much—just a few unsent letters.”</p><p>He couldn’t help but notice a hard line around her mouth. “To whom?”</p><p>She hoisted herself up on the saddle. Raddus huffed a little when she sat down. “Easy, girl. Guess we’re both past our prime.” She cleared her throat. “He wrote letters to Ben. Some of them are almost yellowed with age, while some were written only months ago.”</p><p>“Oh,” was all he managed.</p><p>“I’m tired. Let’s go home,” said Leia while pulling her hat deeper into her face.</p><p>***</p><p>On their trek back they saw the stagecoach approaching in the distance. It was slowly making its way through the snow-covered road. Finally they were getting mail again, thought Poe. He was keen to read the newspaper. In the last issue they had announced a boxing match between William Thompson and Ben Caunt, and he was curious to know if Caunt had won or not.</p><p>To his surprise, he saw a rider galloping towards the stagecoach, lifting his hand to get the driver’s attention. He was a few hundred meters away, but the way he posted the trot was unmistakable: it was Hux.</p><p>Leia seemed to notice too. “That’s him, isn’t it? The Englishman?”</p><p>“Seems that way. Looks like he’s eager to get his mail.” They both directed their horses towards the stagecoach.</p><p>Hux had just put an envelope into his coat when they arrived. The coach driver turned to greet them with an incredulous look. “Jesus, what’s with this town? Can’t you people wait for the mail like regular folks?”</p><p>Leia gave him a friendly smile, but her voice had an edge to it. “Any mail for Solo or Organa?”</p><p>The man huffed and checked in the bag labeled ‘Silver Gulch.’ “Just this newspaper.” He carelessly threw it to Leia who caught it effortlessly and put it in her saddlebag.</p><p>“Thank you, my good man,” said Poe.</p><p>The driver swore under his breath and snapped his reign to spur on the   horses. The coach rumbled slowly away, leaving only the three people on horseback at the side of the road.</p><p>Hux tipped his hat. “Ma’am. Mr. Poe.” He tilted his head a bit. “Don’t you expect mail, Mr. Poe?”</p><p>“None of my folks back home can write,” shrugged Poe. “But you seem to have a sweetheart, seeing as you were so eager to get your mail, eh?”</p><p>Hux stared blankly at him. “I’m surprised at your manners, to be frank. Why don’t you introduce me to the lady?” asked Hux. He nodded towards Leia. “I’m—”</p><p>“Hux,” said Leia curtly. “I’m Mrs. Solo—pleased to make your acquaintance.”</p><p>“Ah, I have heard much about you, Mrs. Solo. My condolences for your loss.” Hux’s green eyes fixated on her. Again, he seemed to be scheming something—what the heck was it with that gaze?</p><p>“I assume you never had the pleasure of meeting my brother?”</p><p>“I’m afraid not,” replied Hux. “But I’m told he was a remarkable man.”</p><p>“Yeah, that’s one way of putting it,” retorted Leia dryly. “I reckon your employer was very saddened to hear the news… now that there is only one of us left.”</p><p>“I’m not privy to Mr. Snoke’s thoughts on the matter, Mrs. Solo.” He hesitated for a moment. “Apologies, but aren’t there still three members of your family alive?”</p><p>Leia had a surprised look on her face. She probably hadn’t realised herself that she had betrayed her misgivings about her family until Hux had called her out. She caught herself quickly. “Of course—but seeing as my husband is away on business, and my son is working for Mr. Snoke, it might as well only be me.”</p><p>“Ah, I have misinterpreted your words then,” said Hux after a pause. Something flickered over his face. The tips of his ears turned pink. “Mrs. Jakobson told me that you have an impressive collection of books at your ranch, Mrs. Solo. Do you happen, by chance, to have books about Greek mythology or poetry?”</p><p>Leia’s eyes went wide and she barked a laugh. “Damn, you really are an odd one, Mr. Hux. Are you simple? Or is this some silly attempt at humour?” She laughed again. “You honestly think that in a place like this anybody would own something like that?”</p><p>Hux stiffened at the laughter. A tension crept into his posture that hadn’t been there before, despite the upright way he sat on his horse. Poe again got the sense that he was dangerous. Hux’s eyes hardened.</p><p>“I don’t appreciate your mockery,” he pressed out, his accent even more pronounced than before.</p><p>Leia eyed him calmly from head to toe. Hux didn’t seem to like it. He pulled the corners of his mouth down. “I think I’ll take my leave now. Good day to you both.”</p><p>Leia reached for her saddlebag. In response, Hux’s right hand twitched and was suddenly resting on his gun. The motion had been very fast, only lasting for a fraction of a second. When he saw that she wasn’t reaching for her rifle, he lowered his hand.</p><p>Poe slowly reached for his own gun. He didn’t think that Hux would turn violent, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Leia noticed that Hux was rather alert now. She visibly relaxed and pulled her hand out of the bag. “I think we got off on the wrong foot, Mr. Hux,” she said in a warm and calming voice. “I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m a simple woman and I’m afraid the country life has somewhat roughened my manners.”</p><p>Hux remained tense. His eyes flickered from Poe to Leia and back again.</p><p>Poe made an effort to smile at him and lifted his hand off his gun. “Let’s all calm down, eh?”</p><p>“I have some books, Mr. Hux. I don’t think there is anything that would be of interest to you, but you’re welcome to visit my ranch and have a look,” continued Leia.</p><p>Hux’s eyes went wide. He was as surprised by this turnaround as Poe. He remained silent a moment, then frowned. “I appreciate the invitation, Mrs. Solo, but I’m afraid I have to decline. Mr. Snoke wouldn’t approve. Good day to you.”</p><p>He turned his horse around and trotted away.</p><p>Leia smacked her lips and Raddus huffed before starting to walk down the road. Poe followed her.</p><p>“You were right about him, Poe. He’s sharp. And he is most certainly no ordinary city boy.”</p><p>“Why did you invite him?”</p><p>She shrugged. “I thought it might prove interesting to talk to him.”</p><p>Poe didn’t inquire further into the matter. In that moment before things had gotten tense with Hux, Leia had reached for the letters Luke had written to Ben. That meant she had considered giving them to Hux to pass on to Ben. Interesting—but she had changed her mind just as quickly.</p><p>No matter. Hux had declined Leia’s invitation, to no one’s surprise. Given the testy exchange, it was probably for the best.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. The Braying Mule</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose wiped one last time over the LeMat revolver and allowed herself a satisfied grin. Not only had she successfully replaced the hammer and the barrel, but she had also cleaned the cylinder until it shined like new. </p><p>Mr. Hux had visited her a number of times over the last few days. On Monday he had stopped in to inquire about the nails she used in her work. Two days later he appeared, offering to share tea that he had ordered in special from Montana City. He had accidentally ordered too much and had thought of her. And just yesterday he dropped by to discuss the book she had been reading.</p><p>Rose had to admit that she enjoyed talking to him. He was always so kind and knew how to talk about various topics. In fact, she found herself looking forward to his next visit.</p><p>Other customers came by, but most of them offered little to no chit-chat. Nobody was asking her about books or about guns. They were all dull compared to him.</p><p>She was just building up the fire for the day when a soft knock could be heard coming from her door. She couldn’t help but smile—it had to be him. He was about the only one who ever bothered to knock. </p><p>Rose wiped her sooty hands on her dirty pants and opened the door. Her smile faded a bit when she saw Rey standing in front of her.</p><p>“Morning,” said Rey.</p><p>“Morning.” Rose let her in and closed the door.</p><p>Rey went to the fire and warmed her hands. “Lord, it’s cold. I thought I would freeze just making the walk over here.”</p><p>“Tea? I just brewed it. I must warn you though, it’s my usual blend of mint and dandelion.”</p><p>The other woman nodded and Rose proceeded to pour hot tea in two old mugs. When Rose handed her the mug she blushed a little. The old, dented tin cup looked out of place in Rey’s hands. Come to think of it, she looked out of place in the smithy with her fine dress and her beautiful thick brown braids.</p><p>“I can’t even remember when you last came by,” said Rose with a timid smile. “What do you need?”</p><p>“Nothing—I just wanted to check in on you. It’s been a while since you came by.” She put her hand on Rose’s shoulder and squeezed it a bit. “How are you?”</p><p>“Yeah, well… I thought it would be better to lay low for a while.” And there was also the matter of money, but there was no need to tell Rey that. She would perhaps even offer Rose whiskey or tell her that she could put it on her tab. </p><p>The Jones brothers had accused her often enough of being a freeloading bum, feeding off Rey’s generosity. It wasn’t true, of course, but it still stung. And perhaps there was a grain of truth in it… Rey always helped her, was always nice to her. It felt so good that somebody actually cared… so good, in fact, that Rose had accepted time and time again, without being able to repay her.</p><p>“I understand, but I hope you will come by soon. Kit and I miss you.”</p><p>“I miss you too,” said Rose. She thought of Hux and cleared her throat. “Uh, did any of Snoke’s men come around lately? Today, I mean?”</p><p>“Sure did. Today there were a couple of ranch hands. Mr. Solo and Mr. Hux came by two days ago, but Ellis stayed away.”</p><p>Rose picked nervously at her hands. “Mr. Hux is quite polite, isn’t he?” She wanted to ask about him, to tell Rey… she didn’t know quite what. She just had the urge to mention him, and to learn more about him.</p><p>Rey sipped her tea. To her credit, she didn’t even flinch at the bitter taste. “He is—he also seems to be interested in books. We talked for a bit about England, and then he asked me if I had any poetry books.”</p><p>Rose felt a stab of… she didn’t know what. She had thought that Hux was only talking to <em> her </em> about books. That she was special in some way. It was silly, of course. There was nothing special about her. She wasn’t tall and pretty like Rey, or smart and elegant like Jane, the daughter of the hardware store owner.</p><p>She decided to change the topic. “I’m still reading the novel. It’s a fun read.”</p><p>“Oh, where are you? Have you already arrived at the ball?”</p><p>Rose nodded eagerly. “I loved it! Finally the nagging sisters realised that Iris is better than them. And the prince was so romantic when he proposed to her!”</p><p>“He was! Perhaps I need to re-read it once you have finished before I pass it on to Mrs. Jones.” Rey chuckled. “Imagine if our winter dance could be like that! Sparkling chandeliers everywhere, women in fine linen dresses, men in smart suits!”</p><p>“Yeah—we can count ourselves lucky if the folks around here remember to wash their faces and scrape the horseshit off their boots before they attend,” said Rose with a sigh.</p><p>“You are being unkind,” snorted Rey. “We might not be wealthy nobles, but we are still capable of putting on a nice dance. Last year was a great success… oh, sorry. I forgot that you didn’t attend. How about you come this year? I know that you don’t like all this silly dress up, but perhaps you could make an exception this year.”</p><p>Rose stared into her tea. She wanted to come. Last summer she had almost worked up the courage to attend the harvest dance. It was silly, of course. She didn’t have a dress, and she couldn’t dance. And aside from that, she wasn’t keen on the mockery. Nobody would dance with her anyway. She managed a smile. “It’s just not my thing.”</p><p>“I do hope you’ll change your mind,” Rey said with a sincere smile. “I bet you would look real fine in a dress.”</p><p>“I think I’ll stick to horses and donkeys,” she replied.</p><p>“Just think about it, okay? Thank you for the tea.” Rey went to the door and wrapped her scarf tighter around her neck. “I’m looking forward to seeing you again at the saloon.” With these words, she walked out into the coldness.</p><p>Rose stared at the shiny LeMat revolver and wrapped it up in an old rag, putting it away. It was stupid to think that Hux had meant anything by his politeness. She really was pathetic, thinking that a man like him would be interested in her in such a way. She was like one of the silly sisters in the novel she was reading: ugly, bumbling, unusually presumptuous, fancying the heroine’s love interest that she had no shot with… the butt of all the jokes.</p><p>She really should stop reading novels. They only confused her, and filled her head with fanciful things. She wasn’t the blonde heroine who lived happily ever after. She was merely the side character who ended up marrying the lowly vicar to avoid poverty and spinsterhood. It would be better not to even think about Mr. Hux anymore. </p><p>She began to stoke the fire to ready it for her work. Staring into the orange-red blaze didn’t help her attempt to forget about a certain ginger gentleman.</p><p>***</p><p>In the early afternoon she decided to ride out to the woodcutter camp to get more firewood, charcoal, and wood to fix the handles of her tools. She put the saddle on Petal and wrapped it gently but firmly around her. </p><p>“I know you don’t like this weather, Petal, but you have to earn your keep.”</p><p>Petal bleated and farted in protest as Rose closed the belt around her belly. </p><p>“That’s not very ladylike,” she scolded. “Pull yourself together or you won’t be able to attend the winter dance.” The joke left an ashen taste in her mouth. An image of Mr. Hux’s smile popped into her head.</p><p>She sighed and grabbed the reins, leading Petal outside. “On the bright side, we will be able to spend the whole evening together all cozy and warm while the others get drunk at that silly dance; that sounds nice, right?”</p><p>She climbed on her back and gave the reins a little shake. Petal huffed and started to move, marching through the snow.</p><p>Riding out in winter was uncomfortable and too cold for Rose’s taste, but as soon as she reached the plains she couldn’t help but admire the frozen landscape. The hills were covered in brilliant whiteness, and the trees looked like they were bathed in glistening powder. The air was dry and cold, but so very refreshing. The only sounds were her steady breaths and Petal’s hooves crunching on the snow. It was peaceful.</p><p>When she arrived at the woodcutter camp, Klaus Eberhard emerged from his cabin to greet her. He wore a coat that looked too tight for his broad chest. His blonde beard and height only added to the impression that he was some kind of giant out of a fairy tale. </p><p>“Hi Klaus, how are you?” said Rose, waving at him awkwardly.</p><p>“Tach Fräulein Rose,” said Klaus with a chuckle. “Na, wieder mal ein bisschen Nachschub für die Schmiede holen, wa?”</p><p>She had no idea what he was saying, but smiled nonetheless. “It’s so cold that I need more wood.”</p><p>“Kommense mal her,” Eberhard said and helped her off the donkey. “Schon alles vorbereitet.” He led her into a shed next to his cabin and pointed at a sledge loaded with wood and charcoal. </p><p>“Oh, that’s a great idea! With all the snow a sledge is perfect to transport everything back.” She wouldn’t even have to walk back, with the sledge she could even ride Petal.</p><p>“Joa, das dachte ich auch. Den Schlitten können Sie bei Gelegenheit zurückbringen, hab noch ein paar davon.” He grabbed the sledge and dragged it to Petal as if it weighed nothing.</p><p>Together they put the harness on the mule. Poor Petal looked indignant. Rose petted her and silently promised her a treat once they were back in the smithy. </p><p>She rubbed her gloved hands together to warm them up. “Uh, can I pay you later? It’s a tough winter.”</p><p>Eberhard eyed her from head to toe and nodded. “Alles klar.”</p><p>“Great, see you next month.”</p><p>She climbed again on Petal’s back and gave the reins a shake. Of course Petal didn’t move. Rose sighed and touched the donkey’s belly with her heels. With a sound of protest the animal started to move, pulling the sledge behind her.</p><p>Rose was halfway home when she saw a rider advancing towards her at a fast trot. As the horseman drew nearer she recognized Mr. Hux’s lean figure. She leaned back and Petal came to a stop.</p><p>Small clouds of breath escaped Mr. Hux’s mouth when he finally arrived. He took his hat off and gave her a small nod. “Miss Tico.”</p><p>She caught a glimpse of his fiery red hair that reminded her of glowing iron. For a very brief moment she wondered how it would feel… she imagined it would be warm and soft. She couldn’t help but smile behind her pulled up scarf. “Mr. Hux, are you on your way to the woodcutter?”</p><p>He put his hat back on. “One could say that. May I accompany you on your way home?”</p><p>She blinked, slightly confused. “Well, I wouldn’t want to keep you from your duties.” She didn’t quite get why he would offer to keep her company for the short route. Perhaps he wanted to inquire about the LeMat revolver and was too polite to say it outright?</p><p>“Don’t worry, Miss Tico. Accompanying a lady is the most important duty for a gentleman.”</p><p>She laughed. “Somehow I doubt that I would qualify as a ‘lady.’” She rode on and Hux joined her, matching her pace.</p><p>“Some would also argue that I don’t qualify as a ‘gentleman,’” he chuckled. “But here we are.”</p><p>“So, how do you like Silver Gulch so far?” she asked.</p><p>He glanced at her, and there was something in his green eyes she couldn’t quite interpret. “I have to admit that I’m quite charmed. Since coming here, I have met many interesting people.”</p><p>Ah, he must be referring to Rey. She thought about it for a moment and had to agree. Rey was certainly very charming and interesting. And she was English, just like Hux. They were both handsome, slim, tall, and polite. They really had much in common. “I see.”</p><p>Rose watched him ride next to her. His posture was flawless, and the way he rode had something elegant about it that she hadn’t seen before. He moved with the horse in flowing movements. From the side, she could see his crisp sideburns and his green eyes, as well as his sharp cheekbones. </p><p>She felt small—well, smaller than usual. What a sight they must be: the gentleman with fine clothes, riding a pureblood horse, and the dirty blacksmith riding an old donkey. She felt ashamed that she had even entertained the idea that he would visit her like—she couldn’t finish the thought. It was too embarrassing.</p><p>“I brought you something that might be of interest to you,” he said. He reached into his saddlebag and produced a strange firearm Rose had never seen before. It looked like a pistol, but it had a steel slide on its side, making it look like a cross.</p><p>Rose gaped at it and stopped Petal. </p><p>Hux leaned down and handed her the pistol. Their fingers brushed, and even through the glove his touch felt warm. He pulled his hand back with a shy smile on his lips. “It’s an old piece I took with me when I left England. It’s called a harmonica gun. If I recall correctly, it’s Swiss made.”</p><p>She turned it in her hands and stared at it in awe. “It’s beautiful! The cartridges are loaded with the slide, right? Percussion cap too!” </p><p>He nodded. There was a slight blush on his cheeks. Well, it was rather freezing out here, thought Rose. “I wanted to show it to you earlier, but seeing as I couldn't just write you a note, I thought I should wait for a good opportunity.”</p><p>She chuckled. “Is that how people in England do business? Writing notes?”</p><p>He shifted a little in the saddle. “Yes… that’s how we do business.”</p><p>She looked at it one last time and handed it back to him. </p><p>He looked perplexed. “Don’t you want it?”</p><p>“What for? I’m a terrible shot and this beautiful gun would be wasted on me.”</p><p>He cleared his throat. “I could teach you how to shoot, if you’re interested.” He licked his lips. “You could use my Smith &amp; Wesson. It’s a bit easier to handle than the harmonica gun. I could come by tomorrow and show you how it’s done.”</p><p>What an odd man. What on earth was the point of her learning how to shoot? Perhaps he thought that she could fend for herself the next time Ellis showed up? </p><p>“I appreciate the offer, but I’m afraid you would be wasting your time. If somebody is carrying a gun around here they better know how to use it or they wind up dead. There are plenty of boys who thought they would be men once they started to carry a piece, but in the end they only ended up provoking seasoned gunmen.”</p><p>He looked down on the pistol in his hands. “I understand. I don’t mean to cause trouble for you, Miss Tico.”</p><p>She used the reins, driving Petal forward. “I really appreciate it, Mr. Hux. But it’s not for me.”</p><p>Hux lingered a bit and she glanced over her shoulder, to watch him. He was still looking at the harmonica gun, his lips pressed to a thin line. Then he put the gun back in his saddlebag and clicked his tongue, gaining on her until they were riding next to each other again.</p><p>“Do you know if they have found Luke Skywalker's murderer yet?” Rose asked.</p><p>Hux shook his head. “I don’t think so, but Mrs. Jakobson should know. Aren’t you acquainted with her?”</p><p>“I am, but after that business with Ellis I thought it best not to visit the saloon for a while. When I saw her last it didn’t come up.”</p><p>“You don’t need to worry about Mr. Ellis, Miss Tico. He knows better than to lay a finger on you.”</p><p>Rose sighed. “It’s not just Ellis, and this isn’t the first time I’ve had to fend for myself.”</p><p>Hux was silent for a moment. “Have you ever thought about going to Montana City? You told me yourself that there is an Asian community. Perhaps things would improve?”</p><p>She shouldn’t have said anything. Even if he had a sympathetic ear. “I can’t,” she said quietly. “I don’t belong, neither here nor there. You see, my family died when I was about five years old. I don’t remember them, and I can’t speak Vietnamese. Heck, I don’t even know my real name.”</p><p>“That’s unfortunate.”</p><p>“If by that you mean that it sucks… yeah. All I have left is an old family photo and a piece of paper with characters I can’t read.” She grimaced. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dish out sob stories.”</p><p>“Thank you for telling me.”</p><p>She exhaled. “It’s no big secret. The whole town knows. Mrs. Jackson took me in after they found me out in the wilderness. After she died I ended up as the blacksmith's apprentice.”</p><p>“Have you ever found out what’s written on the piece of paper?”</p><p>“Yeah, I gave it to somebody who was on her way to Montana City. The lady even found somebody who could translate it—it’s just a list of supplies, probably written by my parents. So no big reveal that I’m the long lost princess of the royal family or something like that.”</p><p>They had arrived in town. Rose registered the stares she got from the townspeople as she rode down mainstreet with Hux at her side. If he was bothered by it, he didn’t let on.</p><p>Petal stopped in front of the smithy and they dismounted. </p><p>“Allow me to help you with your load, Miss Tico.”</p><p>She shook her head. “You would get dirt on your nice clothes, Mr. Hux—no thank you.” She  grabbed a bag with charcoal and shouldered it. “Thank you for keeping me company.”</p><p>He took his hat off once again and gave her a polite nod. “It was my pleasure, Miss Tico. Good-bye.”</p><p>He put the hat back on, covering his eyes. With one fluid movement he put his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up. He clicked with his tongue and rode off, his elegant black coat billowing behind him.</p><p>Rose watched him go. Part of her wanted to call out, to ask him to help her. Just so that she could talk to him a bit longer. No, it was silly. She was just the side character, after all. Rose felt slightly ill, as if there was a hollow space in her stomach, making it hard to breathe.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Tar in the Chest</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hux rode until he reached the outskirts of Snoke’s property. When he found a nice secluded spot, he slowed his horse and effortlessly dismounted. With purpose, he strode to the nearest fence and placed his hat carefully atop a post. Only then did he allow himself to properly exhale. He was such a fool! Such a damn fool! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started to pace back and forth, swearing under his breath. What had he been thinking, giving her such silly trinkets! He hadn’t even considered that teaching her how to shoot would cause problems of their own. He was an arrogant fool! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran his hand through his hair, messing it up. He really was a self-centered twit! For days he had struggled in vain with his growing affection for Miss Tico, debating whether it was proper to court her… as if he were some noble and not just a bastard son of a country gentleman and a maid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She had been so gracious when he displayed his misplaced affections. Accepting the tea with a kind smile, laughing at his silly stories. All the nights he was tossing in his bed, thinking of her beautiful, intelligent eyes, her jet-black hair and her soft lips...</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On one of those restless nights he had started writing letters to her, expressing his feelings. For whatever reason though, he could never finish them. He scoffed at himself. The fact that he was writing letters out here was of course just another reason why she was right to refuse him. They were nowhere near London high society, and that’s not how things were done around here. Who in their right mind wrote damn letters instead of just asking a straightforward question?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really was every bit as bad as his stuck-up father! Looking down on the town and its people, and not even once had it occurred to him that Miss Tico might reject him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It served him right! What had he been thinking? Miss Tico was a very pretty and smart woman with two working eyes. Why would she be interested in some skinny, pale redhead when there were honest down-to-earth men available? Men who didn’t pretend to be something they were not. Of course a smart woman like her would see right through him, realising that he was just some grand-stander wearing clothes he could barely afford at the moment! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stopped his pacing and inhaled. The freezing cold burned in his lungs. He liked the sensation. It was the contrast to his burning heart that he needed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A lump formed in his throat, lacing it up. He sniffled. He really was pathetic. If he pretended to be a gentleman, he should at least act like it. He reached inside his breast pocket and pulled the letter out. He read the contents once again, but it didn’t bring him joy. Not anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had become reckless because of the good news from Mr. Tritt Opan. He looked over the numbers on his bank account in Montana City. He would fulfill his duty to Mr. Snoke and disappear next summer. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Somehow the prospect didn’t hold the same sway it used to. He pressed his lips together. He still had his dignity, at least. He was lucky that nobody had witnessed his clumsy attempts to woo Miss Tico.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He took his hat from the fence, put it back on his head, and mounted York. With all the determination he could muster, he continued on his way to Sweetwater Ranch. The cold wind whipped at his face, making his eyes water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he finally arrived at his destination he had composed himself. He would carry on and do his duty—nothing could be easier. It’s what he had done for the past ten years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis waved to him after he had given York his fodder. Hux tugged at his lined black leather gloves and approached him. “Mr. Ellis, you wanted to speak to me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ellis gave him his usual oily grin. “You’re late—we got a visitor. He’s with Mr. Snoke now.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My schedule is none of your concern,” replied Hux cooly, turning on his heel to leave for the main house.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He had no idea who the visitor might be, but seeing as Mr. Snoke sent for him, it was bound to be important. He rapped at the office door and entered promptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Snoke leaned back in his chair and put his boots on his desk. “Ah, Mr. Hux. How good of you to join us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A striking black man who was unknown to him stood in the middle of the room. He was armed with two colts, his clothing suggesting that he wasn’t a simple cowboy. The coat he was wearing was thick and lined with fur—from the looks of it, it was wolfskin. He was holding his black hat in his right hand and gave Hux an interested look. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sir,” said Hux and took his hat off, nodding towards Mr. Snoke and the man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Mr. Finn,” said Mr. Snoke. “He’s a bounty hunter from San Francisco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux crooked his eyebrow. “It must be quite a bounty for you to ride all the way here, Mr. Finn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Truth be told, I just happened to be in the vicinity. But you are right about one thing—it’s personal for my employer, and he spares no expense to see justice done,” replied Mr. Finn in a calm voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Snoke chuckled and rummaged in one of his drawers, no doubt looking for his chewing tobacco. “There is a sizable bounty on a certain Enrique García Dameron. From what I hear, the renowned Henry Wells himself has tasked Finn here with bringing in the scoundrel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux mused on the name for a moment. “We don’t have anyone with that name in our employ.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Snoke chuckled approvingly. “That’s what I like about you, Hux. Always so diligent,” he sighed. “I recommend that you have a look around at Blue Rock Ranch—Mrs. Solo tends to gather all kinds of outcasts and rabble.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn eyed Mr. Snoke shortly before he gave a brief nod. “I appreciate your cooperation, Mr. Snoke.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course… Mr. Hux will see you out.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux led the way and together they walked down the stairwell. “If you don’t mind me asking, is this Mr. Dameron wanted for manslaughter?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn squinted his eyes. “What makes you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux slowed his step and turned to face him. “A goldwasher was shot recently in a nearby creek. I was wondering if there is any connection.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn shook his head. “I’m afraid I have to disappoint you. Dameron is wanted in other matters. Far less grave than murder.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux’s curiosity was piqued. “I can show you the way to Blue Rock Ranch. Perhaps you would share what you know with me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Somehow I get the impression that you used to be law enforcement, Mr. Hux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux gave him a thin smile. “I admit that professional curiosity is hard to shake.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They stepped outside and walked over to the horses. Mr. Finn wrapped his coat tighter around his chest. “Pinkerton?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. How—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your clothes are a bit too fine for a simple lawman.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fair enough,” said Hux. He patted York and mounted him. He watched Finn do the same with his Holsteiner horse. It had been a while since he had last seen that breed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Together they rode off, Hux taking the lead with Mr. Finn following close behind.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you want to ask, Mr. Hux?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you refer to your horse or your profession?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Both. People always wonder about a black man on a horse. And I saw your look.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux smirked. “There is not much to ask. Holsteiner horses are very rare. I assume you acquired one from a trader on the east coast. Therefore, I surmise that you fought with the Union army in the war.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really are a Pinkerton, huh? You could deduct all that from my horse?” asked Mr. Finn with a short laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your army belt buckle might have clued me in,” retorted Hux dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They rode for a while before Hux cleared his throat. “So, about this Enrique García Dameron…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He dishonoured Mr. Wells' daughter. Apparently they were in love and Miss Wells fell for his charms. She’s now had an illegitimate child, and her father demands satisfaction.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux frowned. “All this over such a matter? That seems excessive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn shrugged. “In personal matters it’s not about adequacy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you hope to find him? Do you have a sketch of his likeness?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only a rough description, provided by the daughter. According to her, he has dark, curly hair, is good-looking, and has a scar on his right hand. I also have this.” Finn reached into his pocket and showed Hux a beautifully made harmonica. It had silver linings and looked used.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not much to go on. How long have you been looking for him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only three weeks. I was delivering a bounty in Topeka and saw the commission on a board. It’s quite old, but it still pays handsomely for an easy task.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Provided you find him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, but I prefer this over some other bounties. I guess I have seen too much.” Finn fell silent for a moment. The fence to the Solo’s ranch was already in sight. “Why did you leave the Pinkertons?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux briefly thought about refusing to answer, but in the spur of the moment he decided to tell the truth. Perhaps it was because of the earlier turmoil he felt, or perhaps he was just tired. “I didn’t leave. I got fired. Turns out that I had principles I didn’t know about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn nodded. “Yeah, sounds familiar. It’s odd, isn’t it? I also thought I had seen it all, but sometimes… it stays with you. Follows you into your dreams. Makes you feel like there is tar in your chest.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They arrived at the border and Hux slowed down. “This is as far as I will take you, Mr. Finn. Mr. Snoke is not on good terms with Mrs. Solo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m curious—trade disease, I guess… what got you fired?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux grimaced. “There was this client who paid us to find his wife and daughter. A rich oilman.” He rolled a cigarette and lit it up. “You should have seen her face when we found her. Pure terror. She was still blue and purple from his fist. My partner didn’t care, of course. You know how it is… but I just couldn’t do it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you let her go?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux blew smoke out of his nostrils. “I did—broke my partner's hand, to top it off. My employer wasn’t pleased. It was hard to find work after that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux gave him a brief nod. “Good-bye, Mr. Finn.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man gave him a sloppy salute and crossed the border into Mrs. Solo’s land.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Later that night, when most of the world was slumbering, Hux found himself once again awake and staring up at the ceiling. Sleep eluded him despite the generous amount of whiskey he had gulped down. Nothing seemed to alleviate the hollow feeling that had settled in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To say that Miss Tico was on his mind would have been a grave understatement. She haunted his mind, occupied his senses, and made him feel hot and cold at the same time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pictured how he might redo his failed encounter with her. He should have given her a flower instead of that silly gun… it was winter, though, and flowers were out of the question. Perhaps he should have written to her first after all, like he had done with his sweethearts back in England? Maybe he should have—Hux exhaled. No, nothing he could have done would have changed the outcome.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was simple: she just wasn’t interested. All that was left to do now was to behave like the gentleman he pretended to be. He would carry on and respect her wishes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Gloomier thoughts set in, making him feel ill at old memories of his mother picking up plates in the dining room while his father stood above her, a sneer on his thick lips, a riding crop in his meaty hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been a while since he had last recalled what he had left behind. The conversation with Mr. Finn and his own unhappiness must have triggered it. In an attempt to distract himself from thoughts of Miss Tico’s fine eyes; her enchanting smile, and her wit, he began to muse about Enrique García Dameron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm, a harmonica player, dark, handsome… curly hair, good-looking, scar on his right hand… that could be anyone. And still… something must have pointed the bounty hunter towards Silver Gulch. This Dameron must be pretty memorable. And to seduce the daughter of </span>
  <em>
    <span>the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Henry Wells.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux had of course never met Mr. Wells, but he imagined that he was like all rich men: distrustful, smug, sure of themselves… controlling, violent, and—no, that was just his father. He forced his thoughts back on track. The daughter would surely have had a chaperone—an elderly lady who knew about the wiles of young men and the dangers of silver-tongued handsome men. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly his mind conjured the image of Mr. Poe and Mrs. Solo sitting on their horses that day of the mail delivery. Odd, what made him think of this scene? The smooth Mr. Poe... from what he had heard, the man was quite the skirt chaser, insatiable, and flirting with Mrs. Jakobson too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And the way Mr. Poe had casually called Mrs. Solo’s land ‘our land’ as if he had any claim on it. Come to think of it, he had said ‘Everybody calls me Poe,’ implying that Poe wasn’t his real name.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux got the feeling that he was onto something. Maybe Mr. Poe and Enrique García Dameron were the same person. It would certainly fit—he had just graduated from young women to elderly ladies who would perhaps bequeath their land and fortune to their lover.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, that wasn’t it. Mrs. Solo was too cunning, too tough to fall for sweet words. But Hux still couldn’t shake the feeling that Mr. Poe could easily sway women’s hearts. Hm, perhaps he should wait for an opportunity to have a good look at his hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hands… a pair of small, sooty hands came to mind, holding York’s hoof. Hux reached once more for the bottle of whiskey.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Despite his hang-over, Hux was up and about at the crack of dawn. He felt like he would puke at every turn York took, but he held steady, managing to stay stiff-lipped and in control throughout the day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the evening he retired early to his room with a cup of tea. He still felt sick to his stomach, but at least he had gotten rid of the splitting headache. As it turned out, it was helpful to his stomach to lay down and enjoy peace and quiet, but it did nothing for his aching heart.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When somebody knocked loudly at his door he was almost relieved. Perhaps one of the cows had gotten lost? Or Mr. Snoke needed his expertise for a business matter?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his utter surprise, it was Ben Solo who was visiting him. He looked like he had just finished his work—his boots were dirty, and so was his poncho. At least he had the good grace to take his hat off before he pushed past Hux into his room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Solo—to what do I owe this pleasure?” Hux asked dryly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t appreciate your sneer, Mr. Hux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was merely polite.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure… I know what you think about me—that I’m just some silly boy,” began Solo with a frown. “Snoke certainly thinks so, and so does Mrs. Jakobson.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux looked at him from head to toe. “How old are you, Mr. Solo?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m 22.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux went to his desk and sat down, pulling the tea egg out of the hot water. “You are a boy then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo hesitated for a moment, then closed the door behind him and leaned against the wall. “How old are you, Mr. Hux?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m 34.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo scoffed. “A couple of years means nothing—it’s just a number. I’m more skilled than some of the older cowboys.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you say so,” said Hux calmly. He had to admit that he was curious why Solo bothered to show up in the first place. But knowing him, he would tell him soon enough. He agreed with Mr. Snoke—he really was carrying his heart on his sleeve. “I assume there is a reason why you’re here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You were a Pinkerton, right?” He was searching something in Hux’s face. “So you know how to find murderers?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This had taken an unexpected turn. “You are correct. I used to work for the agency. I fulfilled a great many duties… among others, I was tasked a few times to investigate accidents and murders.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want you to find Luke Skywalker’s murderer,” Solo pressed out with an expression on his face like he had tasted something foul.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux chuckled. “You ‘want’? Surely you’re aware that I’m your manager, and not the other way around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo gripped the hat in his hands harder. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure Sheriff Pryde is up to the task. It is, after all, a rather straightforward investigation.” Hux was of course tempted, but it irked him that Solo was so blunt about it. He could at least ask properly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s true that Pryde is capable of finding the perpetrator… if he chooses to do so, is another matter.” Solo’s grip on his hat loosened. “I may be young, but I know what kind of man Snoke is, and I know that Pryde is a self-serving bastard.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I thought you didn’t care about the old man?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t, but Mrs. Jakobson does.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you think showing her that you care lifts you into her good graces?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo didn’t answer right away. Instead, he stepped to the window and looked out into the darkness. “I don’t know, but I want her to be happy again. I want her to laugh and sing again like she used to. She loved that old coot like a father, the devil knows why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux stirred his tea. “He will still be dead.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Some deeds cannot be undone,” he said, facing Hux again. “Will you help her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course Solo wouldn’t admit that </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed help. On the other hand, it was better to focus on something he was actually good at instead of lingering on Miss Tico’s beautiful eyes. “I’ll try.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Man With A Harmonica</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Oliver was looking at Poe with pleading eyes. “Come on, I need a partner for the winter dance. How do I get a pretty girl to say yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe put his hands on the other man’s shoulders. “Well, are there any women who you’re friends with?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No—why would I have lady friends? I don’t want to be pals with her. I want to have a sweet girl to… you know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are hopeless. I bet you can’t tell skunks from house cats!” Poe sighed. “You need to get to know her first, and she needs to get to know you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Oliver looked at him in puzzlement. Just when Poe drew breath to explain to him where the problem was, he noticed a lone rider approaching the ranch. The fine grey horse was immediately recognizable. Jesus—it was the mysterious stranger he had seen in front of the saloon. His treacherous heart started to beat faster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Be right back,” he said breathlessly to Oliver, leaving him to welcome the rider at the gates. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It really was the handsome cowboy—Poe couldn’t believe his good fortune. In the cold afternoon light he looked even sharper than he had remembered. “Hello there! How can I help you?” He gave the man his most brilliant smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger leaned back and his horse stopped right in front of Poe. “Good day to you, sir. I’m told this is Blue Rock Ranch. Is Mrs. Solo in? I would like to have a word with her in private.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, I’m the ranch manager. Care to tell me what this is about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The man tilted his head a little. “I’m afraid I need to tell Mrs. Solo in person.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe felt a shiver run down his spine. He got a bad feeling about this. He had seen men like him before and that meant—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s this?” rang Leia’s voice out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stranger gave Poe a nod and rode past him towards Mrs. Solo, who was standing on the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steadied himself for a moment and joined Leia on the porch.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ma’am, my name is Joshua Finn. I was hoping to speak with you alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leia crossed her arms. “State your business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Very well—I’m a bounty hunter, and I’m looking for a certain individual who might have passed through Silver Gulch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe registered that Finn was smart enough not to imply that the wanted person was still here, giving them the opportunity to tell him a lie he could disprove to apply pressure later on. This one was much more clever than the last one that had shown up two years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Leia nodded. “I see. Please come inside, Mr. Finn. Have a strong cup of coffee with me and tell me all about the scoundrel.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe didn’t follow them inside. He had hoped that Clara or her father had come to their senses in the past few years, but it seems the family was as ruthless as it was rich. Well, he’d best lay low and wait until the handsome bounty hunter had disappeared from the premises.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He returned to Oliver and they finished preparing the ropes for the next day. From the barn he observed the main house, and when he saw Finn leave, he quickly went over and caught Leia in the living room. She sat in front of the fireplace, knitting a scarf.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did he want?” he asked a little breathlessly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked briefly up before lowering her gaze again, focusing on the needles in her hands. “He is looking for a man who has seduced a woman over in Frisco.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck! “Ah.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I take it you didn’t do it?” she asked calmly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe laughed nervously. “No—no, of course not. I’m a flirt, but I would never do that to a woman.” The admission was on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. He had hidden it so long that the mere thought of it being spoken, admitted even, made him feel uneasy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He even had your harmonica, and a rather apt description of you.” She sighed. “I believe you, of course. Is there any way to clear up this misunderstanding?” She looked up and her eyes were moist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing her like this shook him to his very core. The strong Leia Solo looking at him like this… it was gut-wrenching. “I can’t.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked and smiled sadly at him. “You can’t blame an old woman for trying.” She gulped and lifted her chin. “You know that I won’t let you go, right?” Her voice sounded brittle. “You haven’t properly taken care of the cattle yet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe had caught her looking at him with a pensive look. Leia would never admit it, but she loved him like a son. She was afraid of losing him, just as she had lost her real son. The town only ever saw the strong, feisty Mrs. Solo, but at the end of the day she sat by the fire on her own, knitting scarves for people who weren’t there with her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He slowly sat down in the armchair across from her, taking his hat off. “I think you dropped a stitch there.” He mustered his brightest smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked briefly up and chuckled. “Shut up.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, boss.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They sat in companionable silence in front of the fire. Poe calmed down. There was nothing to fear. The bounty hunter would go away. Nobody in Silver Gulch cared about that old business anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The next day he had to ride to town to order nails for the fence. After placing his order, he briefly debated whether to have a cup of strong coffee at the saloon before riding back. He rolled a cigarette while thinking. Hm… surely the handsome bounty hunter was looking out of town for his target.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stuck the cigarette behind his ear for later. Just when he had made up his mind to visit Rey, he saw Hux handing a letter to a rider. The man put the letter in his breast pocket and rode away. Hux watched him disappear, seemingly in thought. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What sort of urgent correspondence did this man have that he had to pay a rider instead of waiting for the next stagecoach? He was tempted to just saunter over there and ask him, just to see his reaction. No… that likely wouldn’t work on him. Hux wouldn’t slip up. He was too smart for that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux’s next destination was Sheriff Pryde’s office. Poe stepped in the alley next to the hardware store to keep out of sight. He took the cigarette from his ear and lit it up, eyes glued to the Sheriff’s office. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was an open secret that Pryde was in Snoke’s pocket. Were they discussing strategy? What the heck were they planning? Poe sighed. What was he even doing here? He would never find out what they—</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux suddenly stepped out of the office, Pryde and Mitaka on his heels. The Sheriff’s body language revealed that he was pissed; hands on his suspenders, lips pressed to a thin line. Hux gave them both a polite nod and left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pryde snarled something to Mitaka, who looked distressed. Suddenly Pryde slapped the younger man in his face, making him flinch. It wasn’t a hard slap, Poe observed. No—it was just hard enough to humiliate him. Mitaka stared wide-eyed at his uncle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pryde spit callously in his nephew’s direction and stomped back inside. Mitaka stood on the porch, looking lost. He wiped his nose on his coat’s sleeve. Quickly he gathered himself and headed straight for the saloon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe threw the butt end of his cigarette into the dirty snow and followed him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka was sitting at a table in the corner of the half-empty saloon. He was picking at his hands and looked miserable. Poe went to the counter and ordered two cups of coffee from Kit. Rey was nowhere to be seen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He paid and went over to Mitaka, sitting down across from him. Mitaka’s eyes were moist and he made an effort to sit up straighter when Poe joined him at the table.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly he pushed the second mug over to the young man.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka sniffled. “You saw that, didn’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did… that’s why I thought you could use a strong cup of black coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka pulled the corners of his mouth down. “Don’t tell Mrs Jakobson,” he said in a very quiet voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I won’t.” Poe gave him a reassuring smile. “Why don’t you just leave? I know he’s your uncle, but he treats you worse than a dog.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I—I just need to toughen up. He says that I’m too soft,” he shrugged. “I guess he’s right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe exhaled. “People just say that to have an excuse to be terrible, you know. How is slapping you supposed to help you grow up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka warmed his hands on the mug in front of him, remaining silent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My grandfather was the same,” Poe said. “Telling me and my brother to grow some balls when we were kids. Forced us to chase snakes… told us that ‘real men’ would chop off a rattlesnake’s head with just a knife and grit.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t know that you had a brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, he died a long time ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What happened?” Mitaka was leaning forward, eyes lit up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Got himself killed because of some stupid bet. Miguel was dared to jump over a fence… at the last second, the horse refused the jump and Miguel crashed head first into the fence, snapping his neck.” For a short moment Poe was transported back to that horrific scene—he could feel the dry sand on his face, the sun burning on his skin as he stood over his dead brother. All he could remember was clutching onto his harmonica as if it was some magic flute that could bring Miguel back to life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Poe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe smiled sadly. “Don’t worry, I told you… it’s been a long time.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka hesitated before he posed the next question. “Did—did you ever stand up to your grandfather?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nah, I was too much of a coward. He would have snapped me in two with one hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka’s eyes went wide. “I thought that a man like you—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe put his hand on Mitaka’s shoulder. “Okay, here is the thing. Listen up, because I’m only going to say this once: men are not made through strength and violence. Boys become men when they have seen things, experienced life. No bet, no amount of whiskey, no stupid dare will ever make you a man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka looked at him and nodded. Poe gave him a reassuring squeeze and let go of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now drink up—I want to ask you a few things about Mr. Hux,” continued Poe. “What did he want with Sheriff Pryde?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka gulped nervously. “He asked about Mr. Skywalker’s murder. He wanted to know if the Sheriff had found out who had killed him.” He sniffled. “My uncle said that he had no lead at all and I—I said that Miss Tico had seen something.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh, so your uncle didn’t like that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he told Mr. Hux to mind his own business and well… he got angry with me. But I just wanted to help. Mr. Hux is always so polite to me. Not like the last ranch manager.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe took a gulp of his coffee. “Yeah, that fellow was a nasty piece of work. Didn’t think Snoke would hire a man like Hux after getting rid of that moron.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mitaka hummed. “I heard Mr. Solo say that Mr. Snoke got tired of ‘mindless brutes.’ He said that he wanted to keep making money without having to deal with problems.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe sat up straighter. “When did you hear that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He told Sheriff Pryde that a week before Mr. Hux arrived. The Sheriff wasn’t too happy about Snoke hiring a Pinkerton. He said that a straight arrow like him would cause more problems than he was worth.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe gaped at Mitaka. “Hux was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>Pinkerton</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, apparently he needed the money. Drove a hard bargain with Mr. Snoke, I hear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, fuck. Was he supposed to be relieved that Hux was supposedly a ‘straight arrow’? Or should he worry about the fact that he was a wanted man and Hux had earned his living bringing in people like him?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did it mean that all the letter business he witnessed was something harmless? Or something sinister? After all, there were plenty of ruthless and corrupt men and women in that agency. No, no… Hux had helped Rose and had punished that Ellis fellow when he tried to assault her. If he were ruthless, he wouldn’t have cared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe sighed. Just thinking about all that gave him a headache. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you alright?” asked Mitaka in a concerned voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, I’m just surprised. It’s not what I expected.” Well, it didn’t change that much if he thought about it. Bounty hunters and Pinkertons were looking for him, or rather for Enrique García Dameron… and yet he was still here. There was no other place for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe got up. “Good-bye, Mr. Mitaka.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for the coffee, Mr. Poe.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are welcome.” Poe donned his coat and hat. He just had to lay low. If not for that generous bounty, nobody would be looking for him right now. Damn that Clara for lying about the child! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beebee and Poe slowly made their way through the snow. Poe didn't pay any attention to the path before him. And why should he? His horse knew the way to Blue Rock Ranch. It knew the way home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Therefore, he let his mind wander for a bit. Eventually, though, his thoughts turned to Jimmy. Did he have a home, a family? Part of him wanted to know, while the other part was too terrified to even think about asking Jimmy anything personal. God knows that Poe had tried to find a way to have a family. He even courted the neighbor’s daughter back in Oakland.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But in the end, he couldn’t do it. Even if he had managed to keep his inclinations secret from her… it was cruel to bind a young woman to him just because he wanted to belong. Just because he wanted to please his grandfather.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe was happy on Blue Rock Ranch. He liked his work, his boss, and he even had a soft spot for Silver Gulch. But from time to time he felt melancholic, uneasy, and thought about leaving. It was nonsense, of course—this was all he could hope for. Every second Sunday was a moment of relief, at least. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a cruel twist of fate that the very bounty hunter who had been sent to catch him was also haunting his dreams and his waking hours. Perhaps god had a sense of irony after all.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Green Grass</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Rose cleaned her fry pan with a dry piece of bread and shoved it in her mouth. As she savored the last bite, she heard an insistent mewing coming from behind her. She glanced over her shoulder and found the now familiar ginger cat sitting near her, mewing louder than before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? I already gave you a piece of cured meat.”</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Meow.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“You are impossible, Millie! I swear to god that you eat more meat than I do.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cat bumped into her leg with its head. Rose sighed. How had this happened? Only days ago the cat was too timid to even come near her, and now it was not only snuggling up to her in her bed, but was also a very eager dinner companion.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Meooowwwwww.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are rodents all over the place!” She got up and opened the door. “Shoo! Go out and hunt your dinner like a normal cat!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Millie looked at her as if she was personally affronted by this rebuke. Suddenly she scurried away, disappearing behind a pile of wood in the back of the smithy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry to bother you, Miss Tico,” rang a familiar voice from outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose blushed deeply and turned to greet Mr. Hux. “Uh, Mr. Hux… I was just talking to the stray cat that…” she broke off, feeling silly. What must he think of her? Talking to an animal like it was a person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, Miss Tico. I once had a very interesting conversation with a cat. They are understanding creatures, aren’t they?” He smiled a little.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seeing that smile made her feel hot, well hotter than before, which was quite a feat considering that she was in a smithy. And those green eyes that held such a kind gaze. This was how the prince in the novel must look—soft lips, handsome face, and eyes that reminded her of summer; fresh grass and emerald river water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux cleared his throat. “I won’t impose on you longer than necessary.” He took his hat off and gave her a polite nod. A strand of his lovely ginger hair fell lightly into his eyes. Rose had to summon all her will-power not to melt right then and there. Stop it, she reminded herself. Don’t be a fool.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t—don’t you want to come in, Mr. Hux?” she stammered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran his hand through his hair, slicking the stray strand back into place. “Alright, but I won’t keep you for long.” There was a slight blush on his cheeks—he must be cold from the harsh wind blowing on his uncovered face.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She let him in and closed the door behind him. “What can I do for you? Do you need tools for the ranch?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m afraid I’m here because of some unpleasant business. Young Mr. Solo asked me to look into Luke Skywalker’s death, and I was told that you saw him late that evening before he was killed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose considered offering him tea, but perhaps it was better not to insult his delicate tongue with her swill again. He must have accepted it the last time out of politeness. Afterall, the next time he had brought his own tea—no doubt to avoid suffering from hers. “I did,” she answered simply, recounting the events she witnessed that evening.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux rubbed his chin. “That glistening object… you said it wasn’t a knife or a gun. What makes you say that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It flashed up while they were still talking. Seeing as they were still in town, all Skywalker had to do was to scream and run… but they continued their heated discussion, so I don’t think that it was a weapon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Where was it? In the man’s hand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose frowned and thought about it. “No… it wasn’t. It was higher—about the same height as Skywalker’s face. Hm, I’m not sure. It was a while ago, and I only saw it for a very brief moment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux had a focused look on his face—he was clearly thinking everything through again. “What was the Sheriff’s take on all of that? He refused to share his thoughts with me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shrugged. “I don’t know—he never asked me about it. I guess he must have heard everything from Rey and didn’t think he needed to talk to me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Odd.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eh, he’s a nasty piece of work. Everybody knows he’s in Snoke’s pock—ehrm, that he cares only about himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux didn’t seem to mind that she had bad-mouthed Snoke, he even smiled. “Well, thank you for taking the time to talk to me, Miss Tico. You’ve given me much to think about. I won’t keep you longer from your work. I apologize again for turning up uninvited.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What in blazes was he going on about? He had never before apologized when he visited her. Since when was he so bashful? She cleared her throat. “I don’t mind, Mr. Hux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His expression changed instantly—his eyes went wide and he straightened his back. “You—you don’t mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn it, how could he look even more handsome than before? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In that very moment, Rose decided that she wouldn’t go down without a fight. She may not be the prettiest or most elegant lady in town, but she would be damned if she didn’t try to charm Mr. Hux like the heroine in her book. Even if she was just the bumbling dark-haired sister. At least Iris’ sister had the guts to follow her feelings! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She lifted her chin. “Uh, no. After all, the only company I keep are a donkey and a cat. I wouldn’t mind a human every now and then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A smile spread out on his lips. “That’s quite a collection you have there, Miss Tico.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her heart started to beat faster. “It’s all thanks to my illustrious tea parties.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He laughed and she felt hot and cold at the same time. That must be the sweetest sound she had ever heard! Was this how Iris had felt when she talked with the prince? A thought crossed her mind. “Do you plan to attend the dance next week?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dance?” he asked, visibly confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her courage almost left her, but she refused to back down. “There is a winter dance at the saloon. Almost everybody will be there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He smiled again and lifted his hat. “I’ll consider it, Miss Tico.” Then he left.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She stared at the closing door. What the heck did that mean? Was it an English way to say that he will be there, or was it an English way to tell her that he wouldn’t even dream of it? He had smiled, so that had to mean he would attend, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She grabbed her coat and her hat and hurried out of the smithy. She found Rey in the yard of the saloon, chopping wood.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello Rose!” said Rey, sounding slightly out of breath. She wiped over her sweaty forehead and gave Rose a warm smile. She was wearing a rough coat over her fine white dress.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, I thought about your offer and I, uh, I would like to come to the dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s great!” Rey beamed. “You will see—it’s great fun. I even invited musicians to perform, so no simple piano chinking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose started to pick at her hands. “Yeah, well… I’ll be needing your help. I don’t have a dress and even if I had, I wouldn’t know how to properly do my hair and… I don’t know. I’m not good at this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey’s smile became even wider as she put the axe down and clapped her hands excitedly. “No worries! I would love to help you out!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said a visibly relieved Rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey began piling the newly cut logs into her basket. “I think I have some cloth left from a dress I made last year. I can make it in the same pattern, and then we can adjust it a bit before the dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll of course pay you as soon as I have gotten my hands on a few dollars.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nonsense—you’re my friend. Besides, I love sewing new dresses.” Rey lifted the basket full of wood and walked towards the saloon. “I have to get ready for the customers. See you later?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps,” replied Rose, “I need to finish up some work.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey went inside and Rose stayed back. As she stood there in the empty yard, Rose realised how inane her plan was. Putting on some dress and pretending to be a lady wouldn’t sway a man like Hux. He must have seen dozens of women who were prettier than her in every damn town he had ever visited. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, no—she couldn’t think like that! She hadn’t backed down when the Jones brothers had jeered at her in the past. In fact, she had kicked Jared Jones right in the balls and had carried on with her head held high. Surely she could attend a dance if she wasn’t spooked by a pair of immature cowboys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that thought, she returned to the smithy and finished her work with a new sort of vigour and determination.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the evening, she read until her eyes burned from the dim candlelight. She was in the middle of chapter six when she decided to reluctantly close it and go to sleep. She pulled her blanket up and tossed and turned until she had found a comfortable position.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a pity that she hadn’t finished the novel yet. She was eager to know how it ended, even though it was pretty clear that the prince and Iris would overcome the intrigues against them and marry. She had taken special care to read the paragraphs with Iris’s sister. Rose knew, of course, that it was just a silly romance story, but she still wanted the ugly side character to get a husband too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her thoughts drifted to Mr. Hux again, as they often did. In her mind she imagined how she would look nice and slim in the dress Rey would prepare for her. It would also have long sleeves to hide her thick arms. She wasn’t exactly lean muscled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then she could charm Mr. Hux with her wit and her knowledge… hm, come to think of it, discussing guns and the best way to bend iron wasn’t exactly ladylike. Clearly she needed something else to talk about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose turned on her other side, drawing a noise of protest from Millie who was sleeping at her feet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rey had told her that Hux was interested in poetry… and then, of course, he had mentioned books about Greek mythology. The women in her novels also liked poems and perhaps even stories about these same gods and goddesses. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The solution was simple—she just had to read up on poems and Greek mythology! The question was, of course, where she could get something like that in less than a week. Mrs. Solo was probably her best bet, upon reflection. She was probably the most worldly and sophisticated lady in these parts, hands down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She turned again on her other side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo was a bit scary though. Perhaps she should just ask Poe the next time she saw him? But what if he didn’t turn up anytime soon? No, she would just ride out to Blue Rock Ranch and ask the lady of the house herself!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With this thought, she finally fell asleep.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A cold wind howled and snow swirled over the plains as she made her way to Blue Rock Ranch. Petal balked more than usual and Rose had to bribe her with two apples before she would move forward. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When she finally arrived, her fingers were clammy from the cold. She stamped up to the porch and knocked. At first there was no sound, so she knocked again. Soon after the door swung open and Mrs. Solo herself was standing before her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Uh, good day to you, Mrs. Solo. I’m Rose Tico, the blacksm—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know who you are, Miss Tico.” Mrs. Solo eyed her from her old hat down to her snow-covered boots. Then she glanced at Petal. “If you’re looking for a new donkey I can’t help you I’m afraid.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose shook her head. “No, Petal is a bit old, but she’s still in good condition.” She cleared her throat. “I—I wondered if you had any book about erhm, poetry or G—Greek gods I could borrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo gaped at her. “You rode out here in this snow storm because you think that I have books about </span>
  <em>
    <span>poetry</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose licked her lips, feeling heat crawl up her cheeks. “I—I was hoping that you might—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo whistled sharply and a farm hand appeared by the stable. “Mr. DeVille, please take this donkey to the horses and keep it warm for the time being.” Then she smiled warmly at Rose. “Come on in—you look like you need a cup of strong hot coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Baffled by this development, Rose followed her inside the house. She couldn’t remember ever having been inside such a place! There were carpets on the bright wooden floor, as well as wooden carvings on the stairwell that led up to the second story. A bright oil lamp was hanging from the ceiling, bathing the whole house in a warm, yellow light.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo led her into a room with a fireplace. There was a small table and a couple of chairs in front of it. On the table lay unfinished needlework. The fire was crackling softly when Leia gestured for her to sit down. “I’ll go fetch the coffee, Miss Tico. Please, make yourself at home.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She did as she was told, while her host left only to return moments later with two steaming mugs. Mrs. Solo put them on the table and sat down in a rocking chair by the fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” said Rose meekly, taking the warm mug into her cold hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, what’s this about books?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The talk of the town is that you have more books than anyone else in Silver Gulch. I was hoping I could have a look at them and maybe borrow one or two books.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo leaned back and the chair started to rock softly. “This is the second time somebody has asked me about poetry books. Pretty odd coincidence, wouldn’t you say?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose didn’t know what to say to that, so took a sip of her coffee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The older woman smacked her lips. “No answer, huh?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry, Mrs. Solo. I don’t know what you mean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, why is a blacksmith suddenly interested in poetry?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What now? She hadn’t expected to be questioned about her motivations. “Uh, I like reading novels. Mrs. Jakobson has been kind enough to lend me the books travellers have forgotten—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It's still quite a leap from novels to poems, wouldn’t you agree?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose blushed once again, biting her lip. What now? Well, it looked like she had to tell the truth to get the books. “I want to go to the winter dance,” she said quietly. “And I need something I can talk about. I heard that some people like poetry, but I have never read any. So I thought it might be prudent to read some.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have much experience with social gatherings, have you?” asked Mrs. Solo in a warm voice, smiling kindly at Rose.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m at the saloon every now and then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“People don’t talk about poetry at a dance, Miss Tico. Usually they just chat a bit about all kinds of things. Mostly they drink and dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh.” Hot shame burned in her face. She was so stupid! She should have asked somebody who knew how these things were done, instead of making a fool of herself in front of a respected lady like Mrs. Solo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo cleared her throat. “But perhaps things have changed since I was last at a dance. You shouldn’t listen to a grumpy old woman anyway, my dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was offering her a way out, but Rose still felt dejected and miserable. It was silly anyway. Why had she even asked Mr. Hux if he would attend? She herself had no idea what a dance involved, had no dress of her own, and couldn’t even dance. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Mrs. Solo.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose rose to her feet and put the half-full coffee mug on the table. “I won't keep you longer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sit down, Miss Tico,” said Mrs. Solo kindly. “Please.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Something in her voice made her sink slowly back into her seat. She sounded warm, giving her a sense of security and comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo rocked the chair again. The fire was crackling. “You are in love, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose just nodded. She hadn’t even admitted it to herself, but she knew it to be true. She was in love and this was her one shot to show him that she could be a lady and not just a blacksmith. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s frightening, isn’t it?” continued Mrs. Solo. “Feeling so much.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose nodded again. “I like him and I—I know that I’m not a proper lady, not like the other women in the town. But people also thought that I couldn’t be a proper blacksmith.” She grimaced. “And I decided to try. Because, if I don’t, nothing will ever change.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, Miss Tico. Nothing ever changes if we don’t fight for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And even if we do, we might lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course. But then again… how are we supposed to win if we don’t dare to fight in the first place?” She chuckled. “I fought all my life for everything. Can’t say that I won every time, and sometimes it feels like I lost more on the way than I gained…” She blinked slowly, staring into the fire. “But I did my darndest to be true to myself. Because I think in the end, that’s all we can hope for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s odd, isn’t it? How the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose fumbled nervously with her hands. “I want to be like the other women… I want to fit in. I didn’t choose to be a blacksmith, I didn’t choose to wear pants. I did what I had to, to survive, to make a living.” She looked at Mrs. Solo. “You were one of the women that fit right in from the start. And you carved out your own path, because you didn’t want to fit in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How astute, Miss Tico. I think there is much truth in your words.” Mrs. Solo thought about it for a few moments. “Perhaps that’s the difference between aspiration and greed. If you want something that is out of reach, there is yearning and the possibility to grow, whereas if it’s something you can just grab, it’s just greed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was right. Perhaps human beings needed to grow or they would wither. It didn’t matter if it was about a lady wanting to be a rancher, or a blacksmith wanting to be a lady. It was about having the courage to try and to fail. She would go to that damn dance and she would do her darndest to win over Mr. Hux!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Perhaps she would fail, perhaps they would laugh at her. Jeer at the silly little blacksmith who thought she could be more than they allowed her to be. But she had to dare.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rose lifted her chin and sat up straighter. “Thank you for the coffee, Mrs. Solo. I think I need to get back to my smithy.” It wasn’t even a turn of phrase. She was just about to fix the last batch of the old weapons in order to sell them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mrs. Solo got up. “Please, have a look at my books first. There might not be a poetry book or a book about old gods, but perhaps you would find something else to your liking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I would like that, Mrs. Solo.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Right Red Hand</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The next day, Hux was still feeling pleasantly light-headed. He was in such a good mood that even Ben Solo took notice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s up with you?” he asked when they were overseeing the Fleckvieh cows moving on the pasture. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing that concerns you, Mr. Solo.” He had to pull himself together—all his thoughts were circling around a certain pretty blacksmith who looked gorgeous even with soot on her face. He had to focus! “I inquired about your uncle in town, but the only interesting piece of information is Miss Tico’s testimony.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah yes, the mysterious blinking object she saw.” Solo chewed on his lower lip. “I thought about it, but I have no idea what it could be.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Me neither. I had a good look at the body—he was killed with a regular revolver. I’m afraid that the glittering object is our only lead.” Hux rubbed his chin as he watched the cows grubbing through the snow to find fresh grass. “The motive is also a dead-end. The common opinion is that he was well-liked and the only arguments he had were with you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Solo frowned. “Perhaps there are some leads in his camp?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The thought had also occurred to me. It’s near Sweetwater Ranch, upstream a couple of miles, on the hill just above the treeline, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, by the river fork, about half an hour from here by horse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hm, the murderer would indeed be careless if he left some kind of clues to his identity there. But perhaps I’ll have a look later.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo put his hand on Hux’s shoulder. “I will keep an eye on the ranch hands. I would appreciate it if you could investigate as soon as possible.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux frowned. “You seem to be in a hurry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Solo shrugged. “The winter dance is coming up, and I thought I could ask Mrs. Jakobson for a dance.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miss Tico hadn’t exaggerated when she had pointed out the importance of the winter dance. At least for love-lorn fools like Mr. Solo and, well, himself. He let his gaze wander over the cows. It was already past noon. As always, most of the work had been done in the morning. He had to admit that it was tempting to continue his investigation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, Hux—it’s Sunday. You’re allowed to leave your post every now and then.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Solo wasn’t wrong, and there was something he was curious about anyway. So far, he hadn’t been able to talk to Mr. Poe about the murder. The man had a motive if he presumed that he was indeed Enrique García Dameron. Mrs. Solo had said so herself—she was the only one left and Mr. Poe could inherit the ranch if he was indeed a silver-tongued devil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, but first I’ll have a chat with Mr. Poe. You told me that he’s in the saloon most Sundays, right?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah, he boasts about his visits to the brothel to everyone who doesn’t get away quick enough.” He spit out. “He is a good worker, but he is too easy-going.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not so sure about that,” said Hux. “He has a sharp eye.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Didn’t say that he’s stupid. He is an excellent shot and probably the fastest rider in town.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It almost sounded like Mr. Solo admired him. It was interesting that he didn’t register any hint of jealousy. He had expected to hear that Mr. Poe was Mrs. Solo’s favourite or something along those lines. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux gave Mr. Solo a curt nod and walked to York. A small voice in his head teased him that he only hoped to see Miss Tico in the saloon, and Hux had to admit that it added to his decision to seek out Mr. Poe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>***</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As he rode towards the town he noticed another rider closing in, coming from the direction of the woodcutter’s camp. It was none other than Mr. Finn. He was easily recognizable due to his grey horse. Hux slowed down so that Mr. Finn could catch up to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Finn,” greeted Hux when he was within earshot of the other man. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good day to you, Mr. Hux.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see that you’re thorough with your quest to find Mr. Dameron. May I inquire if you’ve had any luck so far?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn pulled a cigarette out of his breast pocket and lit it up, blowing smoke out of his nostrils. “That depends. From what I hear, there is only one man who fits the description. The only thing left is to verify his identity, or rather if he has a scar on his hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux gave him a thin smile. “From what I hear, Mr. Poe is at the saloon.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh? What makes you think I have him in mind?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux touched York’s neck with the reins; the horse turned and moved on. “I had time to think about the matter. And then I heard from my men that you questioned them about Mr. Poe, of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man laughed. “A pity that you stopped working as a lawman, Mr. Hux. From what I saw and heard you would be a better Sheriff than the current one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t presume to be a good detective, Mr. Finn. I’m simply curious about the true identity of Mr. Dameron because of other matters. Would you mind if I tagged along?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That doesn't bother me, but I'm not convinced there's a bounty to be collected. I have some experience with men like Mr Poe.” Mr. Finn took another drag. “And if it turns out that he is the man we are looking for, I want to make it clear that I am the one who collects the bounty.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They reached the edges of the town and fell silent. Hux checked his pocket watch—it was almost three o’clock. If his information was correct, it was the time when Mr. Poe visited the brothel. At least that’s what all the toothless miners in the saloon had told him over the course of the past days.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He lifted his hand and Mr. Finn stopped. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This way,” Hux directed, steering York towards the hardware store. “There might be a good opportunity to get a look at Mr. Poe’s hand.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He visits a certain local establishment every second Sunday at three o’clock. If you surprise him, you might get the proof you need.” He dismounted and bound his horse to a post outside the store; Mr. Finn followed his example.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s what I heard too, but I thought that it’s uncharacteristic for a man like him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux crooked an eyebrow. “Uncharacteristic? He is a flirt and a skirt chaser.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Finn gave him a lop-sided grin. “Exactly. Say what you will, but Mr. Poe is a handsome man. A smooth-talker. Why would he visit the brothel at all? I’m certain that there are plenty of rancher’s daughters who would like to get a kiss or two from him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was indeed a very good point. If his own theory was correct, it would certainly be a stupid move to antagonize Mrs. Solo for a couple of hours of fun. And he wasn’t even discreet about it… it really was uncharacteristic for a smart man like Mr. Poe. “You’re right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, it’s a good opportunity to get assurance that the elusive Mr. Dameron isn’t in Silver Gulch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux nodded and led him down the alley between the houses towards the brothel. They waited in the alley, keeping an eye on the brothel’s entrance. About ten minutes later Mr. Poe appeared and marched over the road to enter the house. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They waited for a bit before they crossed over to follow him inside. Hux was first in. The madam was sitting on a small couch just inside the entrance. Hux took his hat off and gave her a polite bow. “Good day to you, Ma’am.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed taken aback by his manner, but she caught herself quickly. “Well, hello there. I haven’t seen such handsome specimens like you two gentlemen for a while now.” She started to fan herself dramatically. “How may I help you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re looking for Mr. Poe,” Mr. Finn said while taking his hat off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah, I don’t know—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn smiled at her. “He is expecting us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She gaped at him. “What? Oh, hell! It’s always the pretty ones, isn’t it?” She seemed glum all of the sudden. “That will be a dollar each.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux had no idea what had happened, but it seemed that Mr. Finn knew more about it than he let on. Well, he could just play along for the time being. They both gave her a dollar and she folded her fan, pointing upstairs. “Room 3 on the left side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn took the lead as they climbed the stairs. Moments later they stood in front of a door with the number 3 engraved on it. Mr. Finn put his hand on the handle and turned it slowly, letting the door glide open. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>With one quick step Mr. Finn intruded, with Hux on his heels. Hux didn’t know what he had expected after having paid the staggering sum of a dollar, but it certainly wasn’t this: a half-dressed Mr. Poe and another naked man jumping off the only bed in the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe reached for his belt with the holster that was laying on the floor, but Mr. Finn already had his hand on his revolver, shaking his head. “Easy there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man quickly grabbed his clothes and almost tipped over while putting his long underwear back on. “It’s—this isn’t what it looks like!” he mumbled, face in a deep red colour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe, on the other hand, was eerily calm. He looked at Hux and exhaled. He didn’t bother to put his shirt back on. He looked defeated. “You just couldn’t let it be, could you? You had to put your nose in other people’s business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your right hand, please,” said Mr. Finn in Hux’s stead. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe showed his hand wordlessly, and sure enough there was a star shaped scar on the back of his hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Dameron, you’re wanted for abandoning Clara Wells with her child,” said Mr. Finn calmly. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He ran his hand through his curly hair and sighed. “I’ll talk, but let him go. He has nothing to do with this business.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Finn nodded and the other man scrambled out of the door, tearing down the stairs at a fast clip. Hux closed the door and leaned against the wall, rolling a cigarette. “Well?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clara and I were acquaintances in Frisco, but I never bedded her,” began Poe, sitting down on the bed. “She was carrying on with another man just before I left. I imagine that she lied about who the father of her child was so that the man wouldn’t get into the crosshairs of her father.” He scoffed. “She probably doesn’t even remember me, or cares that she made me a fugitive with her silly lie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux handed him the cigarette. Poe glared at it, but took it in the end. Mr. Finn ignited a match on the doorpost and gave him fire. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After taking a few drags, Mr. Poe got up and started to collect his clothes. “Can I at least say my good-byes to Mrs. Solo before you drag me down to Frisco?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have no intention of bringing you in,” said Mr. Finn, crossing his arms. “You don’t like women, right? You’re not the father of the child.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe frowned. “I like women, it’s just… they’re not for me. I prefer the company of men.” He squinted. “Why wouldn’t you bring me in? I am, after all, the man you’re looking for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Because it would achieve nothing.You would get thrown in jail for some made-up reason to satisfy some rich white man’s idea of justice, or you would get thrown in jail for sodomy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux tilted his head. “Too much tar in your chest, Mr. Finn?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Indeed. I’m tired of selling people’s lives for money. Especially if they didn’t do anything.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe looked from Mr. Finn to Hux and back. “I don’t understand. Sodomy is still an act punishable by law, and I—”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not in my book,” interrupted Mr. Finn. “The way I see it, nothing has happened here.” He reached inside his pocket and pulled a harmonica out. He threw it to Mr. Poe who caught it in mid-air. Then the bounty hunter tipped his hat and left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe watched him go, pressing his lips together. Finally, he stared down at the harmonica in his hand. “This must be a great day for you, Mr. Hux—you can report back to Mr. Snoke that you now have the means to get rid of me.” He stepped closer to him, hissing: “And if you think you can blackmail me into doing something to sabotage Leia’s ranch, you are sorely mistaken! I love that woman like my mother!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care about your inclinations, Mr. Poe,” replied Hux evenly. “All I care about is finding Luke Skywalker’s murderer.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wha— what?” he gasped. He opened his mouth, closed it, and wiped over his face. “Okay, so… why on earth don't you care that I… and what? Why for fuck’s sake?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux straightened his cravat. “Mr. Poe… I have seen a lot of depravity in my life, back in England and here in the New World, and I can assure you that love between two grown men doesn’t count among it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe looked down on the tips of his boots. “A pity that not many agree with your assessment.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As for your second question: Mr. Solo asked me to investigate, as he felt that Sheriff Pryde doesn’t seem to be dedicated to the task.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man jerked his head up again, staring at Hux. “What the fuck? Since when does Ben Solo of all people care about Luke Skywalker? For all I know he offed the old man himself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux crooked an eyebrow. “That’s what I thought too, at first. But as it turns out, the Solo family is complicated, to put it mildly. As far as I’m concerned, Mr. Solo didn’t do it. It’s true that he was on bad terms with Mr. Skywalker, but after observing him in the past month, I know now that he didn’t kill that man.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Poe frowned. “That’s it? You’ll just walk away from this?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else is there? Blackmail wouldn’t work on you anyway. You would sooner have me killed than give in.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe didn’t bat an eye about the insinuation that he could just shoot a man. Instead he put the harmonica into his pocket and said: “What makes you think that I could shoot you? You were a Pinkerton, surely you have superior aim.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s right, I used to work for the agency. And that’s how I know that it would be a mistake to underestimate you.” He nodded towards the holster with the gun which was still laying on the floor. “Take it slowly and we can part like civilized people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You said that you want to find Luke’s murderer,” said Mr. Poe as he bent down and took the belt with the holster. “What will you do next?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux briefly thought about lying to him, but it didn’t seem to serve any purpose seeing as he could simply follow him to see where he was going. “Go take a look at Mr. Skywalker’s camp.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The other man put the belt around his hips and fastened it. “Mrs. Solo and I were already there the day we met you by the stagecoach. All we found were letters Luke wrote to Ben. He never sent them though”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see, and what were the letters about?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Mrs. Solo took them and from the looks of it, she wanted to give them to you to pass on to her son. They’re not on speaking terms.” Mr. Poe slid into his coat. “But things turned sour between us, as you know, and she kept them.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm, interesting. But if anything, it only proved that Luke Skywalker wanted to mend his ties to his nephew. Why else would he write him? “I see, but I would like to have a look myself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe eyed him, clearly musing about something. “Alright, I’ll show you the way.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I know the location, Mr. Poe. Your help isn’t needed.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Perhaps, but I still would like to accompany you. There is something I want to check again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Come to think of it, it could prove helpful to have someone with intimate knowledge of the Solo family with him. And Mr. Poe was a resourceful man, capable of providing insights. Or was it a ploy to get him out of town to shoot him? No… a man like Mr. Poe wouldn’t shoot another man, he was too… honourable for that. But it was certainly better to be cautious.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux nodded. “Alright, but I want to keep you in my sights. No hasty moments.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Mr. Poe gave him a lop-sided grin. “One of these days we need to have a friendly competition about our shooting skills, Mr. Hux. I’m getting more curious by the minute about your capabilities.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hux huffed. “I’m no gunslinger, Mr. Poe. I’m more of a hunter.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that only makes me more curious.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“After you, Mr. Poe,” said Hux, who took care to keep Mr. Poe in his sights as they left the room. They passed the couch with the madame and they both tipped their hats to her as they made their exit.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Down By The Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Poe rode ahead, with Hux tailing slightly behind. It was uncomfortable to know that those cold green eyes were on his back—but then again, that wasn’t the most uncomfortable event of the day. Not by far.</p><p>His head was still spinning from all the revelations of the past hour. The handsome bounty hunter had left; Hux didn’t care about his biggest secret, had even dismissed it as something trivial. Ben Solo wasn’t a homicidal maniac, and the man he thought responsible for all the evil in Silver Gulch was trying to find a murderer to avenge a man he had never even met. Oh, and there was the fact that he had thought it a good idea to ride up to Luke’s camp with Snoke’s right hand man. If Leia ever found out, she would probably get to use that rifle of hers after all.</p><p>“What is it you wanted to check?” rang out Hux’s voice.</p><p>Of course he would like to know. “It may sound odd, but when I was up there the last time I found dead trout in the river, right by Luke’s gold washing place.”</p><p>“I fail to see the importance of dead fish.”</p><p>Poe smiled to himself. “Me neither, but I had a bad feeling about it. Call it a gut feeling. I just want to check if there are more.”</p><p>Moments later, Hux was riding beside him. It seemed that he had changed his mind about keeping an eye on him from a safe distance. “What kind of trout?”</p><p>He really was as curious as a cat. “Lake trout. That’s what’s so odd. They usually stay away from rivers.”</p><p>“There is a lake upstream I assume?”</p><p>“Yeah, Mr. Canady ponded a small lake, turned it into a greater lake for the benefit of his silver mine, or rather his workers. At least I think that’s why he did it. I don’t know the details, but it made the Núuchi-u, the tribe that lived on that land, move further up the mountain.”</p><p>They fell silent. Poe’s thoughts returned to the absurd scene in the brothel, and the way Finn and Hux had just shrugged off what they had seen. In a way it almost irked him. He had spent his whole life concealing who he was and they just didn’t care.</p><p>It was not right. For some reason he couldn’t discern, he needed Hux to know, he <em>wanted </em>to tell him that it wasn’t that easy for him.</p><p>“I don’t love him, you know.” The words were out of his mouth before he had time to think about them.</p><p>“You don’t?” asked Hux, watching him with his calculating, green eyes. No, not calculating. Interested, curious.</p><p>“We gave each other what we craved. Well, it gave us carnal satisfaction. But not love.” Poe made a point not to look away, to keep Hux’s gaze. He refused to be ashamed of it. “That’s all men like me can hope for. And it makes me angry, so angry that I could scream at the world.”</p><p>Hux pulled two cigarettes from his breast pocket and offered Poe one. “Perhaps we’re all trapped in a world that does not take the course we desire.”</p><p>“You know nothing of my struggle with the world!” huffed Poe, who took the offered cigarette. “You are a privileged white man who was raised by a noble.”</p><p>They both lit up their cigarettes. Hux remained silent for a short moment. “I apologize. I didn’t mean to make light of your ordeal. I was merely attempting to make the point that what people consider to be morally right is nothing but idolatry, but we must submit to it so long as the idol is honoured.”</p><p>“Is that a convoluted British way to say that people are full of horseshit?”</p><p>“It is a convoluted British way to say that our society is full of horseshit,” replied Hux with a thin smile.</p><p>Poe laughed. “You know, I think I like you, Hux.”</p><p>“Oh? That’s not what I would have expected to hear.” Hux flicked the butt of the cigarette away. “Most Americans think I’m detached and… what was the expression… ‘odd.’”</p><p>“What’s your story anyway? Why did you leave England?”</p><p>“I was tired of being stuck between two worlds. My father’s peers knew that I wasn’t one of them. They didn’t say it to my face, but there was no need, of course. They made sure that I never forgot that my mother was a commoner. And the education I received made sure that I didn’t belong in her world either.”</p><p>“How so? Couldn’t you just lose the accent?”</p><p>Hux sighed. “I’m afraid that I’m more like my father than I like to admit. When I was younger, I used to look down on the less fortunate, you see. I was blind to my privilege and to their plight.”</p><p>Poe took a last drag and threw the cigarette in the snow. “What changed?”</p><p>“I grew older and I travelled. And then, of course, I worked for the Pinkertons long enough to understand what people were like.”</p><p>“Changes one’s perspective to see people at their worst, huh?”</p><p>“Quite.”</p><p>“What was that ‘tar’ thing you mentioned to Finn? Was it also some convoluted British thing to say that society is full of horseshit?”</p><p>Hux chuckled dryly. “One could say that. It’s something he told me when we first met. From what I could gather, Mr. Finn has grown tired of the bounty hunter business.”</p><p>Huh, it seemed that Hux had a gift to get people talking. Was this how he worked when he was with the Pinkertons? There was something about him that made him easy to talk to. Perhaps it was his honest curiosity. Yes, that must be it. He was genuinely interested in people.</p><p>***</p><p>A couple of minutes later, they arrived at Luke’s camp. It was just like it had been the last time Poe had been there. They dismounted and went inside the small log cabin. He watched Hux rummage around, but of course he didn’t find anything of interest.</p><p>“It seems you were quite thorough the last time, Mr. Poe.”</p><p>Poe exited the cabin and took a deep breath of the cold winter air. “It would have been too easy to find a written confession or something like that.”</p><p>Hux followed him outside and scanned the surroundings. “I would have settled for a simple clue as to why somebody would bother to kill this old man.”</p><p>“Come on, I’ll show you where I found the fish.”</p><p>They descended down to the small pool. The edges of the river were frozen, but under the ice they could clearly see at least six dead trout floating belly-up. Poe used a long stick to steer one of the fishes towards the shore. He grabbed it and looked at it. The eyes of the trout were milky, but otherwise it seemed fine.</p><p>He put it down and cut it open with his knife, but again he couldn’t determine what was wrong with it. “Well, it was a long shot. I have no idea what happened to them, but something is off.”</p><p>Hux tugged at his black leather gloves and stared pensively at the fish. Poe could almost hear the gears in his mind move. “It’s not because of the winter season, is it?”</p><p>“No, it’s not.” Poe rubbed his chin. “Fish don’t die like that… unless they’re poisoned. And there is only the mine further up the stream. But up until now there has never been a problem with the water, and Canady’s been up there for a decade.”</p><p>“I think I remember to have read something similar in the papers when I was still in England. There was a town in the south of the German Empire that was poisoned by novel chemicals they used to refine silver. Animals died and the locals got sick from lead poisoning. The authorities closed it down after that. Where was it… I think in a place called Ortenau or something like that.”</p><p>Suddenly it all fit together. Poe grabbed Hux’s arm. “Fuck! I just realised something… Mitaka said the other day that Canady only employs German workers up at his mine. I’m quite certain that this wasn’t always the case—folks from town used to work up there too.”</p><p>Hux frowned. “You think that Canady employs workers that use the same chemicals here? That’s quite a stretch.” He stared at the dead fish. “On the other hand, it fits like a glove. Canady must have been poisoning the water for years, but because of the lake, it took longer than in Germany for the poison to work its way to the animals and… to people.”</p><p>“Hell! Luke must have realised it once more fish turned up dead.” Poe suddenly felt dizzy. How long had Silver Gulch been drinking poisoned water? And the meat they sold to Montana City… was it poisonous too? No wonder that somebody had killed Luke… everyone with stakes in the cattle business would have to shut him up in order to avoid ruin.</p><p>“Mr. Poe, I think we’re in trouble,” said Hux evenly, squinting into the distance.</p><p>Poe snapped his head around to look in the same direction. Sure enough, there was a cloud of snow moving towards them. At least twelve riders were heading in their direction. “Well, shit.”</p><p>“Now we at least know why Sheriff Pryde didn’t bother to investiage the murder. Mr. Canady must have paid him off.”</p><p>“You think it’s his doing that this posse is coming up here?”</p><p>“He is the only one who was in the position to watch us, and he knows that I have been asking around in the town.” Suddenly Hux paled—it was the first time Poe saw real emotion on his face. “Miss Tico! She is in danger too!”</p><p>Poe stared at the white cloud approaching. “I agree, but first we need to deal with them.” He felt a cold shiver run down his spine. He was a good shot, and Hux too, but they were severely outnumbered.</p><p>“Can we get away?” asked Hux with an edge to his voice.</p><p>“In that snow we can’t outrun them. And the terrain is too steep to go down quickly enough, even if we leave the horses. We have to make our stand here.”</p><p>Hux gave him a curt nod and together they hurried up to Luke’s cabin and their horses. Hux went to his horse and pulled the Henry rifle from the holster. Poe checked his revolver and tried to steady his heartbeat. Calm, he had to stay calm. Every shot counted. The riders would be out of breath once they arrived, their aim would be off at the start. That was their chance.</p><p>Hux loaded his rifle, wiped snow off a log, then knelt down in the snow. Poe stared at him incredulously—what was he doing? He couldn’t possibly hit them from this range. “We need to let them come to us. We can’t fight them out here.”</p><p>“I used to go on fox hunts when I was a boy, Mr. Poe,” replied Hux calmly. “Even moving targets are predictable.”</p><p>Hux took aim. He exhaled slowly through his mouth. Right before he inhaled, he pulled the trigger. The shot rang through the hills, missing the rider in front by half a meter. But it was enough to startle them.</p><p>Hux exhaled and shot again. One of the riders fell off his horse. Hux quickly used the lever to reload the rifle and shot again. This time, a horse fell and buried the rider under it. Poe stared at the man kneeling in front of him. Damn! He really was an exceptional shot.</p><p>The fourth shot missed again and that was when the riders reached the forest surrounding the hills. Hux got up and quickly reloaded, an empty cartridge fell on the snow.</p><p>“They will try to surround us. I can hold them off for a while, but I need cover fire,” said Hux.</p><p>Poe nodded. “Let’s retreat to the cabin. I’ll barricade the windows while you stand watch. If they’re not fools they won’t risk a frontal assault. At least not until we’re out of ammunition.”</p><p>“Agreed. I will set the horses free.”</p><p>Poe hurried inside and used the bed and the small cupboard to barricade the two small windows. It wouldn’t hold if they tried to break in, of course, but for now the only entry and exit point was the front door. They were trapped, but it was still better than to risk an open fight in the woods.</p><p>They positioned themselves at the door and scanned the woods for gunmen. Poe thought he saw movement between the fir trees, but he hesitated to pull the trigger. He was a good shot, but even he couldn’t hope to hit a moving target between thick trunks and bushes.</p><p>Hux took aim with his rifle a couple of times, but he hesitated too.</p><p>They were trapped in the cabin, but at the same time their enemies had to close in on them on a difficult terrain. They clearly heard movement—twigs snapping, boots scrunching on snow. The key was to keep calm and listen to the surrounding noise.</p><p>There were no horses neighing or snorting. The gunmen had left them behind, most likely at the tree line. That also meant they were exhausted and cold from crawling through the snow. If they knew what they were doing, they would move slowly, regaining a steady hand and reconnoitering the area.</p><p>This wasn’t only about aim, but also about nerves and keeping a cool head. Easier said than done when facing certain death. Poe felt cold sweat on his forehead despite the low temperatures.</p><p>There! On his right flank a man in a dustcoat flitted towards a tall tree. Poe’s right hand twitched up and a single shot rang out, a muffled groan sounding afterwards. He could hear a whisper and soft sobbing.</p><p>A lump formed in his throat. He cleared his throat. “Leave now and nobody else gets hurt!”</p><p>Instead of an answer, a shot rang out, missing him by meters. Well, he had his answer. They figured that they would win eventually. And damn it, they weren’t wrong.</p><p>Poe glanced at Hux who was still kneeling at the doorway, aiming at the woods. Suddenly he shot and he heard wood splintering, a scream following. Another one down.</p><p>The whimpering from the right and the screams from the left continued. Besides the swooshing of the river, they were the only sounds Poe could hear now. Damn it, it was hard to listen to scrunching snow.</p><p>More movement on the left side—Poe quickly fired two shots and missed both. He had two bullets left until he had to reload. They knew that too. He quickly snapped his revolver open and reloaded four bullets.</p><p>Then he shot two more times and waited. As expected, he saw a man running towards the cabin—he probably thought Poe was reloading now. He hit the man in the chest and watched him crumble, dark red blood visible on the brilliant white snow.</p><p>The next few minutes, nothing happened. He didn’t see any movement and he assumed neither did Hux. The screams of the man on the left had faded out. The poor devil was probably dead from Hux’s .44 calibre bullet.</p><p>The whimpering on the left side continued. He could hear the man sobbing and calling for his mother. “Mama, Mama! Es tut wehhhh… Maaaamaaa.” More sobbing followed.</p><p>Why didn’t they take care of their own, damn it? Why didn’t they help him, instead of leaving him to die in the cold snow? The lump threatened to lace up his throat.</p><p>After ten more minutes it became unbearable. The sobbing and the calls were getting quieter, but they never ceased. Poe became angry—he wanted to go out there and put a bullet through his head, just so that he would stop crying and screaming!</p><p>He forced himself to calm down. He had been here before, afterall—back when he fought against bandits on the Santa Fe trail. At times he still dreamed about the Mexican he shot, could hear the whistling, gurgling sound when his perforated lungs folded, making him suffocate in his own blood.</p><p>He gritted his teeth. He had to focus. Everyone’s nerves were fraught. The men out there must be equally disturbed by the pleas of their comrade in arms.</p><p>Poe stopped going to church years ago. According to the preacher, his soul was lost anyway. Not that he really believed in heaven, but he was certain that there must be a hell… and he was also certain that the sound of hell sounded a lot like the screams of the man bleeding to death in the cold snow.</p><p>He had no idea how much time had passed, but it felt like an eternity. His muscles started to ache from tension, his eyes burned, and his legs felt cold. Suddenly they heard a thud on the roof of the cabin. Hux tore the rifle up and fired three times into the ceiling. Either he had missed or the logs were too thick for the bullets, as the stomping continued and something was thrown down the chimney.</p><p>Poe’s eyes went wide when he saw that it was a bundle of burning brushwood. They were trying to smoke them out! Hux pulled the lever and reloaded his rifle, shooting three more times up at the ceiling. Nothing happened, only more brushwood was dropped down into the fireplace. Smoke began to fill the cabin.</p><p>Hux coughed and pulled his scarf over his mouth and nose. “Do you want to wait or go out there and take our chances?”</p><p>Poe covered his nose and mouth too. “We should wait and play dead. Perhaps they’ll come looking for us.”</p><p>“A sound plan, provided that we don’t lose consciousness.”</p><p>Poe coughed and checked his ammunition. Damn it, he only had five bullets left. Hux’s rifle will be empty soon too. Then they would only have Hux’s revolver left. Damn it!</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Gunslinger's Glory</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Rose stretched her back until her joints clicked. Damn it, she needed a break. She took the heavy leather gloves off and wiped over her sweaty forehead. It was a lot of work, but she’d repaired the last piece of military equipment old Tom had hoarded in the back of the smithy.</p><p>She let her gaze glide over a couple of firearms and finally paused on the centerpiece: a Gatling-Gun, Model 1862 Type I! Once she had polished off the first layer of rust she realised that it was actually in good condition.</p><p>Rose allowed herself a self-satisfied grin. Mr. Snoke would pay a nice hefty sum for that beauty. She took a rag and wiped over the crank handle. That was at least 200 dollars right there. Snoke was a cutthroat, but she wouldn’t go under 500 dollars for the whole piece! </p><p>Rose stepped outside and took a deep breath. The cold winter air felt great. Finally things were looking up for her. Once she got the money, she could pay off her debts to Rey, Klaus and all the other traders.</p><p>No more cured beef! She would treat herself to a steak! And then she would buy apples for Petal and perhaps some liver for Millie.</p><p>She sighed. Or she could save the money for the inevitable drought that would follow. Hm, perhaps she could get her hands on more old weaponry. Surely there would be a market in Montana City for that kind of merchandise.</p><p>In the distance, she saw Mr. Hux and Poe mount their horses. Huh, what are those two up to? Come to think of it, they were both investigating Luke Skywalker’s murder. Perhaps they decided to finally work together?</p><p>Rose took a few steps and saw them riding towards Sweetwater Ranch. No, Poe wouldn’t go there. It was more likely that they were going to Luke’s camp.</p><p>She was about to return to the smithy when her eye suddenly caught upon Sheriff Pryde standing on the porch of his office. He held a spyglass in his hands and was obviously looking at the two men making their way up to the creek.</p><p>It was difficult to tell from this distance, but he looked grumpier than usual. He lowered the spyglass and turned back into his office. At that moment, something flashed upon his chest, glittering in the shadow of the porch.</p><p>She froze, gaping at the scene. What the—the glittering thing in the night! Suddenly everything made sense! Pryde was taller than Luke, and the blinking object hadn’t been a weapon, it had been his badge! That’s why he hadn’t bothered to investigate the murder—he had killed Luke himself!</p><p>Rose felt dizzy. She knew in her gut that she was right, even though she had no idea why Pryde would want to kill Luke in the first place. Something must have happened and Luke had come to town to talk to the local lawman to take care of it.</p><p>Pryde appeared again, holding something in his fist, marching with a quick step towards an alley. Something was not right. First he observed Mr. Hux and Poe, and then he was in a hurry to get somewhere?</p><p>She went back into the smithy and got her coat and grabbed her knife. Then she grabbed the polished LeMat and put it into her other pocket. She couldn’t shoot, but she would take her chances.</p><p>It was surprisingly easy to spot Pryde once she had followed him down the alley to the edge of the town: he was standing in a field, piling up firewood. He used a flintstone, and moments later fire started to lick at the thick logs. Pryde proceeded to pile on fir twigs until thick smoke started to rise up in the sky.</p><p>After watching the smoke rise a while, he put the fire out and returned to his office. Rose kept an eye on him from a safe distance. Something was happening. He had clearly signalled someone, but he was still the Sheriff and she was just a nobody with nothing but a hunch.</p><p>Fuck! What now? Most men were out of town mining for gold or working on the ranches. Mrs. Solo! She would know what to do, and she certainly had capable men who could move against Pryde.</p><p>While she was still trying to make up her mind, Rose spotted a white cloud moving towards the town. Riders were galloping at high speed towards Silver Gulch. Whatever was happening… it was too late to ride out. No, she had to figure out what was happening first.</p><p>She stayed in the shadowy alley, gulping nervously when thirteen riders stopped in front of the Sheriff’s office. Pryde exited once again and said something unintelligible to them. In a matter of seconds, they dashed away—Rose didn’t need to watch to know that they were heading for Luke’s camp. They were going after Mr. Hux and Poe.</p><p>She ran to the saloon as fast as her feet could carry her and banged the door open. Rey was visibly startled, and so were the two old men playing cards at one of the tables.</p><p>“I know who did it!” screamed Rose. “Sheriff Pryde shot Luke!”</p><p>Rey gaped at her. “What?”</p><p>“He—he sent riders after Mr. Hux and Poe! I think they’re up at the camp! Luke’s camp!”</p><p>“Slow down!” Rey rounded the counter and approached her. “Why would Sheriff Pryde kill Luke?”</p><p>Fuck! She didn’t have time for this! Rose turned on her heel and exited the saloon. She was about to hurry back to the smithy when she heard a cold voice behind her. “What’s this? Causing a ruckus, are we?”</p><p>A shiver ran down her back when she turned to face Sheriff Pryde. He stood just a few feet from her, leaning casually against the outside wall of the saloon. His cold blue eyes were fixated on her, a cigar between his lips. His dark grey coat was fluttering in the wind. His hand was casually resting on the handle of his revolver. Rose realised that this was it. He had bet everything on one card, sending the riders after Hux and Poe.</p><p>If the two men made it back alive, he would be done for. And if they didn’t, she was the only witness left of his misdeeds. At this moment the door to the saloon opened; Rey and her two customers appeared. “What’s going on?”</p><p>“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about this, Mrs. Jakobson. Tico and I are having a little chat, that’s all.”</p><p>Rose gulped, visibly upset at the scene before her. What now? She couldn’t get to the revolver in her pocket, at least not faster than Pryde. And judging from the cold look in his eyes, he wouldn’t hesitate to shoot Rey and the old miners too. Should she just go along quietly? No, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.</p><p> “He killed Luke,” she said loudly. “I saw him talking to Luke the night he was killed!”</p><p>Rey’s eyes snapped to Pryde. He chuckled dryly.</p><p>“Oh please, why would I kill him? Clearly you are mistaken.”</p><p>“You—”</p><p>Pryde’s grip on his revolver tightened. “That’s enough. I trust that you will come quietly, won’t you? Let’s have this chat back in my office.”</p><p>“You sent men after Poe and Mr. Hux to silence them too! I saw it all! Everybody will know that it was—”</p><p>Pryde drew the revolver, drawing gasps from the audience. “One more word out of your dirty mouth and I’ll shoot you right here. I won’t stand for this slander!”</p><p>Rose lifted her chin defiantly. “Even you wouldn't shoot an unarmed woman in cold blood, Pryde.”</p><p>Pryde laughed. “Oh, but you aren’t unarmed, are you, Tico?” He pointed at her pocket. “You are carrying a gun and you have insulted my honour. I demand satisfaction by duel.”</p><p>So that was how he wanted to play it? “Then I suggest we postpone this until tomorrow at noon. I need to get ready first.”</p><p>“Stop it!” said Rey. “You can’t duel Rose! She didn’t challenge you.”</p><p>“She accepted my challenge, didn’t she? And we will settle this right here and now. Take your gun, Tico and let’s get this over with it.” He cocked his revolver and pointed it at her face. “Draw your weapon.”</p><p>“Stop it, uncle!”</p><p>They all snapped their head around to the man standing across the street. Mitaka had his hand on the handle of his revolver. He looked terrified, face pale and eyes wide open. “Stop it! Duels are forbidden by law!”</p><p>Pryde laughed. “I <em>am</em> the law around here.”</p><p>“N—no, you are not. I’m—I’m a United States Deputy and I will uphold the law.”</p><p>Pryde frowned and turned to face Mitaka. “What was that, <em>boy</em>? You dare to lecture me about my job?” He spit out. “Get out of my sight or you’ll get a shot in your yellow belly.”</p><p>Mitaka slowly gripped his revolver tighter. He was visibly shaking, and there was a tremble in his voice. “N—no. You won’t hurt anybody anymore.”</p><p>Pryde scoffed. “Alright then, let’s see who is the better shot.”</p><p>Mitaka gulped. “Please, uncle. We don’t have to do this.”</p><p>“Stop it, Pryde! Now!” Rey screamed, fear audible in her voice.</p><p>“Oh, but we do,” sneered Pryde, “We absolutely have to do this.” He put the revolver back in the holster, his hand was resting on the gun’s handle. He stared coldly at his nephew.</p><p>Rey gasped and she disappeared into the saloon. Rose could hear her steps on the wooden floor inside.</p><p>After Rey was gone, there was a moment of complete silence on the main street. The weight of the revolver in her pocket was so heavy that Rose felt as if it were pulling her down. Her limbs felt like there was lead in them; her chest constricted.</p><p>In a fraction of a second, both men pulled their guns, and two shots rang out. Mitaka stumbled backwards by the force of the impact. He squirmed and groaned in pain, pressing his hand on his right shoulder.</p><p>Pryde flicked his cigar away and cocked his gun again. “I guess I’m getting a bit old. Looks like I missed your chest, boy. No worries, I’ll put you out of your pain soon enough.”</p><p>Before he could take another step, a second shot rang out—Pryde fell flat on his face. His coat was torn to shreds, and his back was blotched with tiny bloody holes.</p><p>“That’s for Luke!” Rey cocked her shotgun and cautiously stepped closer to Pryde.</p><p>Rose grabbed Pryde’s arm and turned him around, but his blue eyes stared empty into the sky. Blood was seeping from his mouth.</p><p>The two old miners hurried to Mitaka to check up on him. Rey stared at Pryde as if she couldn’t believe that he was dead. Rose realised that she had to act now if she wanted to warn Mr. Hux and Poe.</p><p>She turned on her heel and ran back to the smithy. Petal was visibly confused when she hastily put the saddle on her back, bleating loudly. With trembling hands, Rose fastened the belt, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had to save Mr. Hux! She had to save him!</p><p>She wiped her tears with the sleeve of her coat, then hurried to the guns on the table, frantically looking at them. She needed more firepower! But which one? She was a terrible shot, and from the looks of it, Mr. Hux and Poe were facing thirteen gunmen.</p><p>Suddenly it dawned on her—slowly she turned around and stared at the Gatling gun. It was insane of course, but then again, wasn’t it more insane to bring a meagre revolver to a full-blown shoot-out?</p><p>“Fuck it!” she whispered and hurried to the sled Klaus had lent her, taking the harness and fitting it on Petal. After leading her into the smithy, she quickly bound the leather straps of the harness to the gun chassis. She took the gun’s magazine and filled it to the brim with bullets before shoving it back into the slot on top.</p><p>Then she took Petal’s reins and led her out of the stable; she would have to walk since the gun itself was quite heavy already. Once the wheels of the gun were rolling, she was able to move rather quickly down the road.</p><p>She gritted her teeth when they reached the open plains. Even though she could follow the traces of the posse, it was hard to move through the thin layer of snow that covered the grassland.</p><p>When she finally reached the foot of the hill, she heard shots echo through the creek and her heart fell. No, no, this isn't happening! She could still make it! She grabbed the reins harder and moved on.</p><p>About ten minutes later, her limbs started to hurt, and the cold air burned in her lungs. She was completely out of breath, but she could see the path that led up to the cabin, just beyond the tree line.</p><p>She was exhausted, and so was Petal, but she couldn't stop. She had to make it! She had to use all her willpower to keep moving.</p><p>The donkey suddenly stopped and snorted before it knelt down and wheezed. Desperately Rose pulled at the reins. “No, no, no! Please, I need you!”</p><p>Petal didn’t move. She just sat there in the snow, exhausted. Rose felt tears well up in her eyes. She fell down on her knees and tried to catch her breath. Then she crawled to Petal and petted her head softly. “Please, Petal. Please!”</p><p>A single loud sob escaped her lips. She hugged the donkey’s neck, burying her face in her fur. “I know the Gatling is too heavy, you are tired, and everything hurts. But please, please, help me. I love him, and I can’t lose him—not like this.” She started to sob and clung to the donkey's warm body, wetting the animal’s neck with her tears.</p><p>Suddenly Petal bleated. Rose let go of her and sniffled. With trembling legs, the old donkey got up and started to walk again, pulling the 170 lb gun up the hill. Rose was so relieved that she laughed and cried at the same time. Minutes later, they finally reached the small path leading up to the camp. She hadn’t heard shots for a while now.</p><p>“Quiet now,” she whispered to Petal. They slowly made their way to the camp and just before the last bend, Rose stopped, Petal collapsing on the ground. Her legs gave out, and with a thud, the old donkey fell on the muddy forest floor.</p><p>Rose rushed to her side and hugged her. “I’m sorry, so sorry. I need to go on, but I will come back for you.”</p><p>The donkey was completely exhausted and snorted quietly, chest rising and falling quickly. Carefully, Rose loosened the harness and the leather straps. Then she took the leather straps over her shoulder, gritted her teeth, and started to pull the Gatling forward. Hell, this thing was heavy. But finally all those hours banging horseshoes would pay off!</p><p>She could smell smoke as she dragged the gun forward towards the cabin. Peeking around from behind a tree, she saw eight men standing in front of the cabin, about 50 yards away. They stood to the side of the path and did not look in her direction. Thick smoke was pouring out of the cabin. A quick look at the chimney revealed why: they had covered it with a coat.</p><p>Clearly they were trying to smoke out whoever was inside. She wasn’t too late! She could still save them! She clutched the leather straps firmer in her hands and pulled the gun up to the slight elevation before the path led down to the cabin.</p><p>Her muscles were on fire, every fibre in her body hurt. She gritted her teeth so hard that it felt as if they would shatter. A dull pain spread out in her back when she quietly turned the Gatling gun into position.</p><p>She fell on her knees. With a trembling hand, she reached out to the handwheel. Sweat burned in her eyes when she took aim. From this angle, the Gatling should hit just the men and only graze the cabin.</p><p>Her heart pounded so fast that she was afraid they would hear her. Rose felt dizzy and sick. Finally she gritted her teeth, turning the crank as fast as she could.</p><p>The cylinder started to turn with loud metallic clicks; one of the men turned his head to see where the noise was coming from, but it was already too late for the gunmen: the barrels of the Gatling rotated at such a speed that six of the men in front of the cabin were hit by a deadly hail of bullets. The snow was painted red before they even hit the ground. Empty casings were shot out rapidly on the side of the gun, sizzling as they hit the snow. Tears streamed from her eyes as she cranked until the magazine was empty and ear-deafening silence spread out.</p><p>The two remaining men she hadn’t hit seemed to be in shock, unable to comprehend what had just happened. They stared at their dead friends, rooted to the spot where they stood. Suddenly, Mr. Hux and Poe burst out of the cabin, shooting them dead. Once the enemy had been taken care of, they both collapsed to the ground, coughing as if they were about to choke.</p><p>Rose tried to get up, but her legs wouldn’t obey. She could only sit there, laughing and crying. She had done it! She had saved Mr. Hux!</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. For a Few Dollars More</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The smoke was becoming thicker by the minute. Hux’s eyes burned, and he had trouble breathing. Just—just a little longer.</p><p>Beside him, Mr. Poe was coughing up a storm. Hux put his rifle down and drew his revolver. It felt like they had been inside the cabin for ages, but it couldn’t have been longer than half an hour.</p><p>Outside, he heard whispers. They were closing in. Hux had seen enough fights to know that their chances were slim. Good aim was one thing, but numbers mattered more. Something inside him, though, wouldn’t allow him to give up—he just had to make it.</p><p>Miss Tico… memories of her beautiful smile appeared in his mind’s eye. The gleam in her dark eyes whenever she showed him an interesting piece of smithery; the way she frowned when she mused about something. The strand of hair that sometimes hung in her face… just once. Just once he wanted to brush it behind her ear.</p><p>He cocked his gun and put his hand on Mr. Poe’s shoulder. They had to—</p><p>The rattling sound of dozens of rifles rang through the air. Bullets were whizzing through the air and hitting bodies, trees, the front of the cabin, and the ground. He heard muffled screams, and when the shooting stopped, he squeezed Mr. Poe’s shoulder. Together, they rushed outside.</p><p>Hux swiveled around and shot a gunman right beside the door. Behind him he heard another shot. He turned on his heel, weapon ready, when a coughing fit overcame him. His knees gave out and he fell to the ground. When he finally caught himself, he had a look around: dead bodies were laying on the ground, laced by multiple bullets.</p><p>Mr. Poe seemed to think the same. “What the fuck—”</p><p>They both discovered a strange contraption about forty meters away. It was difficult to spot in the shadow of the forest, but as he recognized the Gatling gun, Hux got to his feet and started to run towards the trees. There was just one of these things he had ever seen, and it had been in Miss Tico’s smithy.</p><p>He almost slipped and fell as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him. When he drew closer, he saw Rose motionless and propped up against the machine gun. Hux fell down on his knees and embraced her. She was sweaty, and she was crying and laughing. She was alive! Rose was alive!</p><p>“Rose! Are you alright?” Another cough shook him.</p><p>She nodded weakly, lifting her hand and cupping his cheek. Her hands were rough and warm. The feeling spread from his face down to his chest, making his heart beat faster. Her usually neat bun had become loose and hair was glued to her wet face. He brushed the hair away and smiled at her.</p><p>“It—it was Pryde,” she said between breaths. “He was the one who killed Luke Skywalker. And he sent the gunmen after you.”</p><p>“Where is he now?”</p><p>“Dead. Rey shot him.”</p><p>Mr. Poe appeared next to them. “What? Rey shot the Sheriff?”</p><p>Miss Tico gulped and nodded. “Help me up please, I need to look after Petal.”</p><p>Hux slid his arm around her and pulled her slowly up. “Are you hurt?”</p><p>“No, I—I’m just exhausted.” She managed to take a few shaky steps and together they walked away from the cabin, leaving the Gatling gun and the carnage behind them.</p><p>Petal was laying on the path, her head resting on the snow. From the looks of it, the old donkey had overexerted itself. Her ribcage was raising and lowering rather quickly.</p><p>Hux let Miss Tico down as she sat next to Petal, caressing her head. “You did it, Petal,” she whispered. “You saved them.”</p><p>Mr. Poe put his hands on his hips and coughed again. “She needs water. I’ll go and fetch some.” He walked back towards the camp, coughing from time to time.</p><p>Hux crouched down and started to massage the donkey’s legs to relax its muscles. He looked at Miss Tico.There was a film of sweat on her face, a smear of weapons oil on her cheek. Her hair was hanging down in strands, and her clothes were wet and dirty from her journey up here.</p><p>He had never seen a more beautiful woman.</p><p>He loved her. He loved her so much with every fibre of his being! He would have crawled down the mountain half-dead to save her from the gunmen. But he didn’t need to because she was the strongest and smartest woman he had ever laid his eyes on.</p><p>She looked up and noticed him staring. She blushed a bit. “How are you feeling, Mr. Hux?”</p><p>“I’m fine, Miss Tico. Thanks to you.”</p><p>She smiled and he could feel his heart beat faster.</p><p>“I’m glad, I—”</p><p>“One round of water coming up for the bravest donkey in Silver Gulch!” said Mr. Poe, setting a wooden bucket with water in front of Petal. “And another one for the gunslinger who saved the day!” He gave Rose a canteen.</p><p>“I sure hope this isn’t river water,” said Hux with a crooked eyebrow.</p><p>“Of course not. I used some of the leftover brushwood and melted snow.”</p><p>Petal huffed and lifted her head enough to drink the water in front of her nose; Poe took care to make sure that she wasn’t drinking too fast, pulling the bucket away from time to time. Rose took a few deep gulps and handed the canteen to Hux. His throat was parched and he gladly drank the cold water.</p><p>He handed the empty canteen back to Mr. Poe. “Thank you. Did you check up on the wounded?”</p><p>He shook his head. “Nobody made it, not even the one back in the woods.” He exhaled and tugged at his gloves. “Come on, we need to get back to town before the sun sets.” As if on cue, they heard a wolf howling in the distance. “Do you think Petal will be able to walk again, Rose?”</p><p>“I think she needs to rest for a bit, but she is tough. If she doesn’t have to carry anything she will be fine.”</p><p>Hux got up. “I’ll go look for our horses in the woods.” As difficult as it was to leave Miss Tico, he had to find York.</p><p>“Wait,” said Mr. Poe, “let me try something first.” He whistled loudly.</p><p>At first nothing happened, but after the second whistle a white-brown horse appeared on the edge of the wood. To Hux’s surprise, he noticed a black steed following it. It seemed as if York kept close to the other horse. Mr. Poe’s steed began to trott towards him, snorting loudly and butting Mr. Poe with its head.</p><p>“There you are, boy!” laughed Mr. Poe, taking the reins.</p><p>York had followed and stood a few meters away, nervously. Hux closed in on him and took the reins in a calm movement. “Everything is alright,” he said quietly, stroking his neck. The horse huffed.</p><p>They agreed that Hux would return to the cabin to get his rifle and to drag the dead bodies into the cabin, lest the wolves get to them. When he returned, Petal was standing again. Goodness, this really was one tough donkey.</p><p>Mr. Poe patted Petal and took her reins, binding them to his saddle knob. He turned and smiled at Rose. “You can ride with me.”</p><p>Hux cleared his throat. “That’s not very prudent, seeing as you need to keep an eye on the donkey. Miss Tico can ride with me. I don’t mind.”</p><p>Poe chuckled. “I can handle the donkey and Rose is light as a feather—”</p><p>Hux glared at him with a withering gaze. “I don’t mind.”</p><p>“Uh,” Poe blinked with a confused expression on his face. “Okay then.”</p><p>Hux led York to Miss Tico and held the stirrup for her while she hauled herself up on the saddle by propping her hand up on Hux’s shoulder. After she had mounted, he pulled himself up and settled behind her.</p><p>He clicked his tongue and York started to walk down the hill. Hux had to reach around Miss Tico to hold the reins, his arms brushing her sides. He took great care not to touch her inappropriately, but he could still feel her warmth and smell the scent of her hair: smoke, iron, and something that reminded him of tea.</p><p>“Are you comfortable?” he asked very quietly.</p><p>She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. “I’m just fine.”</p><p>From the corner of his eye, he noticed that Mr. Poe was eyeing them both. There was little doubt in his mind that the other man understood what was going on. Probably wondering about why a skinny redhead was hoping to gain Miss Tico’s favour. He didn’t care—all that mattered was her.</p><p>Just when they were about to reach the town, a posse led by Ben Solo reached them. “What happened? Where are the gunmen?”</p><p>Hux sat up a bit straighter. “They’re dead, thanks to Miss Tico.”</p><p>Solo eyed the small woman. He looked as if he was trying to solve a difficult equation. “Where are they?”</p><p>Mr. Poe lit up a cigarette. “Up by Luke Skywalker’s camp. We put the bodies we could find in the cabin.”</p><p>“We’ll ride up there to make sure that there aren’t any stragglers,” said Mr. Solo.</p><p>“That is prudent,” said Hux. “If you don’t mind… Miss Tico left her weaponry up there. Could you fetch it for her?”</p><p>“Sure.” With that he rode away, followed by six ranch hands.</p><p>***</p><p>To Hux’s surprise, half the town was on the main street when they rode in. People gaped at them as if they were ghosts. The biggest surprise was waiting in front of the saloon: Mr. Snoke sat in a black carriage, talking to Mrs. Jakobson through the coach’s open window.</p><p>Mrs. Jakobson ran towards them as soon as she saw them. “Rose! Rose! Are you alright?”</p><p>Hux helped Miss Tico down, instantly missing her warmth once it was gone.</p><p>“I am,” replied Miss Tico, hugging her friend. “Did you call for help?”</p><p>“I did! After you left, Charlie rode to Sweetwater Ranch and Ben came right away!” She grabbed Miss Tico and led her into the saloon. “You have to tell me everything—after a hot bath, of course!”</p><p>Hux dismounted and went to Mr. Snoke’s carriage.</p><p>“Sir.” He tipped his hat.</p><p>“Ah, Mr. Hux, when we got news that you were in trouble, Mr. Solo insisted that we deploy a posse right away.” He pulled the dark red blanket covering his legs further up. “Get in please.”</p><p>Hux opened the door and sat down across from Mr. Snoke. He closed the window and clasped his hands on his lap. “From what I gather, the murder of Luke Skywalker has been solved thanks to the blacksmith. Alas, who would have thought that it was Pryde?”</p><p>“It was quite a surprise, sir.” Hux took his hat off. “But it turned out that Mr. Pryde didn’t act alone. A thorough investigation of the silver mine might be in order.”</p><p>Mr. Snoke frowned. “What?”</p><p>“All evidence points to the fact that the mine is poisoning the river water with lead. I’m afraid it’s the very same river that leads into our land. Your cattle might be affected, and of course the meat too.”</p><p>“Fucking Pryde! Fucking Canady,” hissed Mr. Snoke. “And here I thought that we had an understanding!” He leaned closer to Hux. “We will fucking bury this thing! If word gets out that my meat isn’t healthy, it could ruin me!”</p><p>Hux shook his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that, sir. The town needs to know about it—it’s their water too. And we can’t sell that meat in good conscience to buyers in Montana City.”</p><p>“You listen to me, Hux! I <em>am </em>this fucking town! Half of them are my employees and the other half are paid by my taxes. And if I tell them to shut up and drink the water from the river, they’ll gladly do it.” He leaned back. “It will take months, if not years until the river is clean again, I reckon. I can’t lose that much time and money.”</p><p>It wasn’t a surprise that Mr. Snoke would value money over lives, but Hux had thought that he was a businessman enough to understand the benefits of long-term goals. “Mr. Snoke, please reconsider. You are a very wealthy man, and I have seen the ledgers: you can afford to lose a year’s worth of meat production.”</p><p>“You will shut your damn trap or I’ll see to it that you won’t find any work between here and Chicago!”</p><p>Hux eyed the man before him. “When you hired me, you agreed that I would only stay on for half a year. Did you ever wonder why I wasn’t interested in staying longer?”</p><p>The unexpected turn of conversation made Snoke gape at Hux. “What?” He pulled the corners of his mouth down. “I thought you were too fancy to get dirt on your hands. And I was right!”</p><p>“I’m a very curious man, and I like to read about various topics. About five years ago I found this very interesting book about cattle rearing. You know the like… how to raise cattle, how to care for it and so on.”</p><p>“Is there a point to this?” asked the man across from him. The look on Mr. Snoke’s face told him that he already realised that he wouldn’t like what he was about to hear.</p><p>“Bear with me, sir. The contents of the book itself are insignificant to a man like you—a rancher from head to toe. But I was fascinated. I thought that all one needs to do is put cattle on a land with grass and wait for them to grow.”</p><p>“Of course that’s not all, Hux. It takes skill, it takes—”</p><p>“—nutrients with cobalt and iodine, hay in the winter, and salt. A lot of salt.” Hux straightened his cravat. “A grown cow needs 35 to 45 grams of salt per day. A herd of say… 100 cows need about 4 kg of salt-mineral in about a week. As per the last head count, you have 15,534 adult cows on your ranch. Your weekly demand amounts to roughly 621 kg of salt, in fact. The South Park salt mine is the only supplier in Colorado. They charge you 6 cents per lb. That makes—”</p><p>“83 dollars per week,” said Mr. Snoke with a grumpy huff. “I know my own ledger.”</p><p>“Of course you do, Mr. Snoke. But perhaps you aren’t aware that South Park can only produce 800-1000 lb of salt a day. Mr. Hall is supplying you through his stock, but because of the ever increasing ranches with the ever increasing number of cattle in the state of Colorado, he will run out of salt next year.”</p><p>Mr. Snoke gaped at Hux. “This is the first I heard about it!”</p><p>Hux allowed himself a polite smile. “Most people find supply lines boring, but I seem to have a knack for logistics. That’s why I used every cent of my salary in the past five years to invest in a newly discovered salt mine in the east. It was too far away from any big city to transport goods at a reasonable price. That was until they built the railroad to Montana City last year.”</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>Hux reached into his breast pocket and produced a letter.</p><p>“This,” he lifted it into the air, “is the confirmation from my lawyer Tritt Opan that I’m the majority shareholder of said salt mine as per last Tuesday.”</p><p>Mr. Snoke started to laugh, but it was more a cough, but nonetheless it was a laugh. “Oh, Mr. Hux. I see where this is going. If I try to sweep this lead business under the rug, my salt will cost much more than 6 cents, won’t it?”</p><p>“I’m sorry that it has come to this, Mr. Snoke.” Hux put the letter away. “The sack from Pinkerton disrupted my plans. I intended to work for you until my investment was secured. I never meant to harm you or your business.”</p><p>Snoke leaned forward and hissed: “You bested me, Hux. I can accept that, I even admire your foresight. But don’t you dare to apologize to me! It’s fucking insulting. Be a man and take what you want for fuck’s sake!”</p><p>Hux put his hat back on. “I’m afraid I don’t agree, Mr. Snoke. Manners are what differs us from animals.”</p><p>Snoke grimaced. “That’s bullshit. We are animals, pure and simple.”</p><p>Hux opened the door and stepped out. “Good-bye, Mr. Snoke.”</p><p>Snoke leaned out of the carriage and spit. “Solo will bring you your belongings, Hux. And you can expect a letter from my new manager about the amount of salt we need next year.”</p><p>“I’m looking forward to doing business with you, Mr. Snoke.”</p><p>“Fuck you,” said Snoke without vitriol in his voice. Then he slammed the door shut. He banged his hand on the carriage’s ceiling and the driver gave the reins a shake. Hux watched the carriage disappear into the dusk as snow started to fall from the sky.</p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Freedom</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>After he had put Petal into the smithy's stable, Poe rubbed her down and put a blanket on the sweaty animal. Then he gave her a generous amount of hay. A ginger cat was watching his every movement from the back of the stable.</p><p>He petted the donkey as it started to eat.</p><p>“You are really something, Petal,” he chuckled before he left the stable to return to the saloon. He was beat, and his throat was still raw from the smoke. After a day like this, he deserved a whiskey!</p><p>But first things first. He went to the barber to inquire about Mitaka’s condition. To his surprise, he found the Deputy up and about. He looked pale, and his right arm and shoulder were wrapped in gauze, but he sat upright and was eating a big steak.</p><p>Next to him sat Leia. When had she gotten here?</p><p>Poe took his hat off and let himself fall on the third chair. “Good to see you, boss.”</p><p>“I came as soon as I heard the news. I thought Mr. Mitaka might need a proper steak after all that blood he lost.”</p><p>“I appreciate it, Mrs. Solo,” said Mitaka with a full mouth.</p><p>The barber appeared from the back of the shop. “This is not a saloon, as you well know. Mr. Mitaka needs to rest.”</p><p>Leia chuckled. “We won’t be long.”</p><p>Only now Poe noticed the cigar box with Luke’s letters to Ben on the table. Leia registered his stare, shoving the box towards him.</p><p>“I brought this. From what I hear, Ben is in the saloon. Would you be so kind as to give it to him?”</p><p>Poe gave her his most brilliant smile. “How about you do it yourself, boss?”</p><p>“Too much has happened, Poe. There is a reason why Luke never sent those letters, and there is a reason why we don’t talk.” She got up and straightened her dark blue dress. “I need to go back to Blue Rock.”</p><p>Poe rose from his chair and took the box, then followed her outside. Thick snowflakes were falling from the sky; a thin blanket of snow had already covered the bloodied spot in front of the saloon where the Sheriff had met his end.</p><p>“I know what you’re going to say, Poe. Don’t bother.” She went to her horse and reached out to untie the reins from the post.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m just curious to hear what Luke wrote in his letters.”</p><p>Her hand stilled on the post. “He told him that he was sorry.”</p><p>“What about?”</p><p>“About everything. That he shouldn’t have left him to look after the suckler cow all alone when he was a kid, that he should have listened to him when he said that he couldn’t do it. That he should have stood by him when I made him bury the stillbirth…” she trailed off. Then she looked up. “It sounds so harsh when it’s written with ink.”</p><p>Poe didn’t say anything, he just looked at her.</p><p>“I was very harsh to him, I know that. I just wanted him to understand what responsibility was.” She sighed. “But he’s just as reckless as his father. Even after everything I did to help him… he didn’t understand. He took the easy way out.”</p><p>Poe leaned against the pillar of the barber shop and sighed. “I never understood why you were so hard on him. He was just a boy, Leia.”</p><p>She scoffed. “Don’t you dare to blame me for this mess. He wasn’t a boy when he hit Luke.”</p><p>“Listen, it’s not my place to tell you how to handle your family—”</p><p>“But you will do it anyway.”</p><p>“Right, because I see how unhappy you are. You miss him, but you’re both too damn headstrong to make the first step.”</p><p>“It’s too late, Poe,” sighed Leia. “We’re long past talking.”</p><p>“You are not past talking—you never talked to begin with! You know that as well as I do.” Poe held out the box. “Just give it to him. Look him in the eye and tell him that you knitted eleven scarves for him, and that he should come get them.”</p><p>She frowned. “They weren’t for him!”</p><p>Poe laughed. “Yeah, sure. You think I don’t remember your obsession with forcing him to wear wool sweaters and wool socks even in spring?” He smirked. “Or are you too much of a coward to give him a silly cigar box? I thought you were tough, boss.”</p><p>Leia snatched the box out of his hands. “Fine! I’m tired of you chewing my ear off about it. I’ll do it and that will be the end of it!”</p><p>Before Poe could say anything else, she stormed off. He managed to catch up with her at the saloon. She entered with a determined expression on her face and looked around to find her son.</p><p>Due to his height, he was easily spotted standing at the counter talking quietly to Mrs. Jakobson. Leia crossed the room and more or less banged the box on the wooden counter.</p><p>Ben Solo’s eyes went wide. “What the—”</p><p>“Luke left this for you,” said Leia curtly. She hesitated for a moment. “It’s just a bunch of letters.”</p><p>Rey beamed at Leia. “Luke wrote letters to Ben? That’s wonderful; I didn’t know.”</p><p>Her outburst seemed to throw Leia off. “Eh, well yes. He was a man of few words but he had beautiful handwriting.”</p><p>Ben and she stared awkwardly at each other. Finally Leia cleared her throat. “You look skinny. Doesn’t Snoke feed you properly?”</p><p>That got a rise out of Ben. “Of course he does!”</p><p>Leia lifted her chin. “And what is with this old poncho? I can see from here that it has more holes than you have teeth.”</p><p>“The poncho is perfectly fine, ma! Can’t you just stop treating me like a damn kid?”</p><p>“Well, I won’t stand here and look at it!” Her voice became hoarse and quieter. “You are lucky that I have one at home that should fit you!”</p><p>He scoffed. “I don’t need your pity!”</p><p>“Shut up and come get it. I have no use for it otherwise.” She cleared her throat and said in a calmer voice. “I’ll throw it out but you can have it, if you want.”</p><p>“Fine!” huffed Ben.</p><p>“Fine!” said Leia back, turning on her heel and storming away.</p><p>Poe looked after her. Well, it was a start. He had spent enough evenings in her living room to know that there was no poncho. All she ever knitted were scarves. It looked like she would have to make a poncho now.</p><p>He turned to face Rey. “A whiskey please, and something to eat if you have some leftovers. And please wake me if I’m falling face first into the plate.” He exhaled. “What a day.”</p><p>Rey poured him a whiskey and topped up Ben’s and her own glass. “Indeed.”</p><p>“How are you holding up?” asked Poe. “I hear you took out Pryde.”</p><p>She sniffled. “I feel terrible. I keep thinking about it, and I can’t shake the feeling that there must have been a way… I don’t know. He was a terrible man and he killed Luke, but still…”</p><p>“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there,” said Ben with a blush on his cheeks.</p><p>Rey blinked a few times. “It’s alright. I will make my peace with it. It was the right thing to do in the end.”</p><p>Poe recalled the cries of the gunman in the woods and a shiver ran down his spine. Perhaps he needed to drink some more whiskey before he went to sleep. “So many people died because Canady was a greedy son of a bitch. I sure hope he gets his comeuppance.”</p><p>Solo chewed on his lower lip. “I guess it depends on the new sheriff.”</p><p>“He can’t be worse than Pryde,” said Rey.</p><p>“Amen to that,” replied Poe and took a gulp of whiskey.</p><p>“I’ll get you some food,” said Rey and disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later she reappeared with a bowl of stew and a piece of bread.</p><p>Poe thanked her and turned to look for a place to sit. To his surprise, he noticed that Finn was sitting at a table in the back of the saloon, right by the piano. Poe hesitated for a short moment before he went over.</p><p>“Is this seat taken?” he asked with his most brilliant smile.</p><p>“No, please. Join me, Mr. Poe.” He didn’t return the smile, but his tone was friendly.</p><p>Poe sat down and started to eat. “I thought you had left, Mr. Finn.”</p><p>“It was my intention, but the weather was getting worse, so I turned back. I’m in no hurry after all.” He took a pouch with tobacco out of his pocket and started to roll a cigarette. “Turns out that Silver Gulch is more exciting that one would think.”</p><p>“Are you referring to the fact that the prettiest woman in town shot the sheriff, or that the blacksmith mowed down six men with a machine gun?”</p><p>“Do I have to choose between the two?”</p><p>“Of course not. And we have so much more to offer: murder, water poisoning, family feuds, and of course the occasional wanted fiend who seduces pretty women.”</p><p>A smile tugged at Finn’s mouth corners. Poe almost gaped at him. Damn it, he really was the prettiest man he had ever seen. He quickly caught himself. He should pull himself together. There was no way that—</p><p>Finn licked the cigarette sidelong and stared Poe right in the eye. Poe coughed on a bite of his stew.</p><p>“From what I hear you were quite the hero today, Mr. Poe.”</p><p>Poe was still wheezing. “Uh, excuse me.” He coughed again. Then cleared his throat. “I—I’m no hero, Mr. Finn. All I did was shoot some poor kid who will haunt my dreams.”</p><p>“That’s not what they will write in the newspaper back in the city.”</p><p>“Of course not, they like their stories with proper heroes.”</p><p>Finn leaned back in his chair. “Perhaps that’s why I’m not particularly fond of cities.”</p><p>“I used to like them, but the feeling wasn’t mutual.” Poe continued to eat. He finished the last of his stew and wiped his mouth. “So, what’s next for you, Mr. Finn?”</p><p>He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably heading back to Frisco.”</p><p>Poe noticed a glint in Finn’s eyes. The other man put the cigarette in his mouth and struck a matchstick on the tabletop. He never averted his gaze as he held the flame at the end of his cigarette, taking a drag.</p><p>Poe gave him a lop-sided grin. “Have you ever thought of becoming a Sheriff?”</p><p>Finn blew smoke out of his nostrils and chuckled. “I doubt that there are many black Sheriffs. Why, do you happen to know a place where they need one?”</p><p>“Maybe.”</p><p>“Really? What kind of town is it?”</p><p>Poe smirked. “It’s a cold shithole, but it grows on you.”</p><p>Finn laughed, suddenly he looked younger, unburdened. It was breathtaking. Then he took his hat and got up from the table. “Good night, Mr. Poe.”</p><p>“Good night, Mr. Finn.” Poe watched him climb the stairs. Damn it. And here he thought he could stay out of trouble.</p><p>Poe reached inside his pocket and pulled the harmonica out. He traced its silver linings and read the inscription on the back: ‘Por Miguel. Feliz Navidad.’ He smiled sadly and put it back in his pocket.</p><p>He got the feeling that this Christmas was going to be more cheerful than the last few. He glanced at the stairway, then grabbed his hat and headed upstairs.</p>
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<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Once upon a time in the West</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Ouch!” said Rose.</p><p>“Oh, sorry. I forgot a needle.”</p><p>Rose lifted her arms and Rey checked the dress.</p><p>“Found it.”</p><p>Rose tugged at the dress and stared into the mirror. The white fabric looked foreign on her. The sleeves felt too tight, the collar scraped over her skin, and the bodice made it difficult to breathe. A cold draft up her leg made her shiver.</p><p>“You look amazing, Rose,” said Rey as she started to braid her hair. “Don’t worry.”</p><p>“I don’t know. It feels strange. Is it supposed to be so uncomfortable?”</p><p>“One has to suffer for beauty,” replied Rey cheerfully.</p><p>Rose stared into the tall mirror in front of her. She looked nice, that much was true, but she couldn’t help but feel insecure when she saw how the hem of the dress was just a little too long, or how the dress was just a little too tight around her athletic body.  “Are you sure about this?”</p><p>“For the third time: yes! You will see; every man in town will be absolutely stunned to see you. You are so pretty!”</p><p>Rose started to pick her hands. “It… it would be enough if one man was stunned,” she said haltingly.</p><p>“Oh, do you have a sweetheart? I didn’t know!” Rey skillfully pinned up the braid and started on the other side. “Who is it?”</p><p>“Promise me you won't laugh,” said Rose miserably. Up until she had seen herself in the mirror, she had been determined to take her chances. But seeing her sorry reflection… especially when Rey was standing next to her made her doubt her resolve.</p><p>Rey stopped what she was doing and hugged Rose from behind. “Of course I wouldn’t laugh.”</p><p>Rose gulped. “It’s Mr. Hux.” She averted her gaze, feeling silly to have said it out loud.</p><p>“That’s wonderful! He is quite a catch, isn’t he?” said Rey warmly and squeezed her a little.</p><p>“He is,” said Rose quietly. “He is always so kind and polite.” Memories of him brushing hair out of her face right after the fight came to mind.</p><p>“He is also very handsome,” chuckled Rey, continuing to braid her hair. “It’s almost like in the novels we read. He is quite the prince.”</p><p>Rose tugged again at her dress. “Well, he is English. That’s the closest we can get to a prince,” she said with a little smile.</p><p>“It gets even better: he is a noble.”</p><p>Rose frowned. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“Well, his father is a lord. Ben told me all about it.”</p><p>Mr. Hux was a noble? Rose stared into the mirror once again. A small, round faced, sturdy woman in a patched up dress looked back at her. Her heart sank. How was she supposed to charm him with <em>that</em>?</p><p>But she still had a few aces up her sleeve! Yes, no need to give up now! Rey pinned up the other braid and took a step back to admire her work. “Perfect! You look very pretty!”</p><p>Rose cleared her throat. “Can we do the dance again?”</p><p>“Sure,” said Rey. “Come on, I’ll show you and you can follow my lead. And remember, it’s stomp, hop, shuffle and step.” She began to dance, first slowly and then even faster.</p><p>Rose had to focus to keep up, and by the end of the lesson, she felt she wasn’t half bad.</p><p>“That’s it,” said Rey. “Just listen to the rhythm and go along with it. There will be a violin and a banjo, so it will get quite fast after a while. It doesn’t matter if you don’t get all the steps right. Folks are just having fun.”</p><p>“But I want to make a good impression.”</p><p>“I know, but believe me, he doesn’t stand a chance when he sees you in that dress! You just have fun and everything else will follow.”</p><p>Rose tried to dance on her own: stomp, hop, shuffle and step… stomp, hop, shuffle and step. She could do it! She would prove that she was a real lady!</p><p>***</p><p>The musicians, two young black men, arrived at noon. Rey was full of excited energy and made sure that everything was ready for the dance in the late afternoon.</p><p>Rose was uneasy, disappearing from time to time upstairs to check her dress and her hair in the mirror. It did nothing to calm her down; every time she glanced in the mirror she noticed another flaw in the dress or in her figure.</p><p>She started to pace back and forth. She could do this—she just needed to stay focused. First she would impress Hux with her dress, then she could dance and show off her skill. To top it off, she would present him the LeMat revolver she had in her bag. Then they could talk about guns like they had done many times.</p><p>And then… well, she had no idea what came next. First things first, she would just stick to the plan!</p><p>From downstairs she could hear voices and footsteps. People were arriving, and she could hear the musicians starting to play the first few tunes. She lifted her skirt a bit and went to the stairs.</p><p>When she appeared at the top of the stairs, the murmurs in the room died down. She made an effort to lift her chin as she carefully descended so she wouldn’t trip. Countless stares pierced her; from the look on their faces, people were stunned. Some of the old miners even gaped at her.</p><p>She scanned the room but she didn’t see Hux. She pressed her lips together.</p><p>In the back of the room, she could hear laughter. The Jones brothers, who else?</p><p>“Hey Tico! I barely recognized you without all that dirt on your face,” jeered Jared Jones. Some guests chuckled at that.</p><p>“At least I have a face that looks better without dirt, as opposed to you,” she snapped back.</p><p>The crowd started to laugh and Jared’s face turned red. Rose allowed herself a tiny smile. Finally her eyes found Hux standing at the counter. He was glaring at the Jones brothers with a rather cold look. When he turned to face her, he gave her a broad smile that made his eyes seem to glitter. He wore a new black suit with a green cravat and looked absolutely striking.</p><p>“Mr. Hux, I’m glad that you made it,” she said in what she hoped was a casual voice.</p><p>He smiled and his green eyes twinkled as he looked at her. Again she was reminded of summer grass and emerald rivers. “Of course, I wouldn’t miss it.” He looked around. “So this is the famed winter dance I heard so much about.”</p><p>“Uh, yes.” She racked her brain to some up with something to talk about. Nothing came to mind. No, no, no, she needed to say something, anything to keep the conversation going. A sense of panic overcame her. Nervously, she pulled the LeMat out of her bag and handed it to him.</p><p>“Oh, you fixed it?” He took it and their fingers brushed ever so slightly. Rose’s hand tickled where he had touched her.</p><p>“I did; as you can see I improved it a bit. The barrel is quite longer than before, making it more accurate. I also—”</p><p>In that moment, the musicians started to play, drowning out her words with their merry tune. Rose broke off, insecure if she should yell the last part or not. She started to pick her hands. Calm, she had to stay calm.</p><p>The people around them started to dance. Rose gulped. She could do it—she had practiced this. She looked expectantly at Hux, who was still smiling at her. She cleared her throat and said: “Shall we join the dance?” Her heart beat so fast that she feared he would hear it pounding against her chest despite the music.</p><p>Hux shook his head softly. “I’m afraid I’m not familiar with this particular dance, Miss Tico.”</p><p>“You—you don’t know this dance?”</p><p>“I’m more familiar with reels and the Waltz, but please, dance to your heart’s content. I’ll gladly watch.”</p><p>She rolled her shoulders back and decided to go forth with her plan. She noticed Rey dancing with Mr. Solo not far away and made her way to them. Rey beamed at her and Rose lowered her gaze to have a good look at her feet... stomp, hop, shuffle and step. After a few moments she joined in.</p><p>Rey and Mr. Solo slowed their step a bit so that she could follow, but it soon became painfully clear that she couldn’t keep up. After she stepped on her skirt the second time, she lost her courage and stopped.</p><p>The people around her danced and laughed, stomping along with the rhythm. The loud music and the noise made her dizzy. How did they go so fast?</p><p>“Come on, Rose, just go along,” said Rey.</p><p>“I’m a bit tired, I think I will head back,” Rose said with an awkward smile. She took a few steps and was jostled by two enthusiastic dancers. She felt hot and uncomfortable; everything was itching. She could feel her braids had loosened a bit, too. She reached up to pin them up again, but she wasn’t familiar with the style and in the end, she just pulled the pins out, letting her hair down.</p><p>She must look like a mess.</p><p>Hot shame burned in her face. Her plan had failed. She had failed to make an impression with the dress—Hux had not even commented on it. And then she had played her trump card, the revolver, too early. To top it off, she had embarrassed herself with the dance. What had she been thinking?</p><p>She felt tears sting in her eyes. Rose quickly went outside; there was no need to make a spectacle of herself.</p><p>The cold wind felt good on her skin. She watched the dense snow drifting and sniffled. She wiped over her face. She would just wait until she had calmed down and then she would pull herself together and go back in, get her coat, say her good-byes to Mr. Hux, and go home to Millie and Petal.</p><p>The door behind her opened, and from the corner of her eye she saw Mr. Hux stepping outside. “Miss Tico, are you alright?”</p><p>She wiped over her eyes. “I’m sorry. I thought this would be easier.”</p><p>“I don’t understand—what would be easier?”</p><p>She turned to face him, sniffling. “I thought that I was every bit a lady as the others, but I can’t do it. I don’t know how.”</p><p>He took his jacket off and put it around her shoulders. “I can assure you, you are a true lady, Miss Tico.” He took her hand and kissed it. His soft lips burned on her hand like a warm piece of coal. “For you are a lady knight.”</p><p>Seeing him out here in the cold, his fiery strands of hair hanging in his face, just in his dark vest and his white shirt made her realise that maybe, just maybe all wasn’t lost yet. She pulled the jacket closer around her shoulders. “Do you mean that? Do you really think that I’m a lady?”</p><p>He smiled at her, still holding her hand. “Of course I do. It’s obvious with or without the dress. You look lovely tonight, but I admit not as lovely as when you came to my rescue. You should have seen yourself; the spark in your eyes, the glow on your face, like the goddess Athena herself. You are indeed the fiercest woman I ever laid my eyes on.” He haltingly reached up and brushed over her cheek. “And you had a gun oil stain right here. Believe me, you don’t need a dress to be a lady.”</p><p>She sniffled and looked him in his green eyes. This was it. This was the moment where she had to be bold, even if she embarrassed herself.</p><p>“Petal almost didn’t make it to the top; the Gatling gun was too heavy, you see. Do you know what I said to her when she broke down halfway? I told her that I needed her help. I begged her to go on because I love you. I told her that I couldn’t lose you because I love you so much that my heart burns whenever I’m close to you; it burns hotter than any iron smelt.”</p><p>Hux’s eye’s went wide, then his gaze became even softer than before. “I was hoping, dreaming about this moment, but I didn’t dare to hope that I had your favour, Rose.” He kissed her hand again. “May I have this dance?”</p><p>Her heart felt hot and full and she beamed at him, tears of joy stinging in her eyes. “Of course, but we don’t have any music out here.”</p><p>He brushed a strand of hair out of her face. Then he took her right hand and put his other hand on her back. “It doesn’t matter.”</p><p>He began to slowly move back and forth. As she followed his movements, he started to hum a melody she wasn’t familiar with; a quiet, comforting tune. They danced together on the porch of the saloon, to their own tune. Thick snowflakes were swirling around them, quietly descending on the town, covering everything with a thick white blanket.</p><p>With every step he pulled her closer, until their faces were but centimeters away. He leaned down and gave her a featherlight kiss. “I love you too, Rose.”</p><p>Rose did not feel the cold, biting winter wind. She felt warm and safe. This heat was not as hot and stifling as fire. It was gentle and glowing from within. She knew that the warmth she felt came from him—his heart, his fiery hair, his crown of fire. Her prince, her love.</p><p>She was certain that his kisses sparked glowing embers, floating up in the air, dancing like fireflies on a hot summer evening. But these embers’ spark would never die. Not even on a cold winter night.</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>The End</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for reading my very first AU :D</p><p>The awsome art was made by <a href="https://shahs1221.tumblr.com/post/188308127424/commission-for-gerdavonrinnlingen-buy-me-a">shahs122</a>!</p>
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